


The Return

by ButifulDeath



Series: Hellsing: Rebirth [2]
Category: Hellsing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-01 04:29:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15766617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButifulDeath/pseuds/ButifulDeath
Summary: You must make Water of the Earth, and Earth of the Air, and Air of the Fire, and Fire of the Earth.The Black Sea. The Black Luna. The Black Sol.Here is the last of the White Stone and the beginning of the Red.~Opening of The Ripley Scroll30 years after the Millennium incident in London, Hellsing Organization is asked to investigate a sensitive matter by an unexpected source. What is uncovered forever changes the course of the future and the Legacy of the Hellsing family.





	1. The White Stone

**Author's Note:**

> 32 years after the 5 Chapter "Remembrances", we pick up directly following the [final scene of Hellsing Ultimate](https://youtu.be/SV-sARVTCdY?t=3520). Remembrances was a set up (though that was NOT AT ALL how it started. My boredom got out of hand and my muse went HAM.) for what is to come after. 
> 
> I'm working it out as I go, so I ask for some patience. This isn't going to be the peppered recollections of what came before, but hopefully a cohesive 'continuation' within world. I'm going to do my best. Thanks for reading!

> _In the sea without lees_  
>  _Standeth the bird of Hermes_  
>  _Eating his wings variable_  
>  _And maketh himself yet full stable_  
>  _When all his feathers be from him gone_  
>  _He standeth still here as a stone_  
>  _Here is now both white and red_  
>  _And all so the stone to quicken the dead_  
>  _All and some without fable_  
>  _Both hard and soft and malleable_  
>  _Understand now well and right_  
>  _And thank you God of this sight  
>  _ **_The bird of Hermes is my name eating my wings to make me tame._ **

It was as if no time had passed.

Sitting on the same side of the bed he always had, watching the rise and fall of her breathing as she slept, the vampire king smiled to himself. Her hair was lighter, peppered with white, and she abhorred the wrinkles and lines of age on her face, but to him she was more beautiful than ever. She was human, and had aged - a natural magic he would never see.

It had taken thirty years for him to regain himself. Thirty long years for him to kill all the lives within him, save one. One that now allowed him to be everywhere and nowhere at once, one life that granted him omnipresence and would ensure his survival… and that of his little coven.

Of course he would never call them that aloud. Not that he thought Seras would mind much - it was hard enough keeping her at bay right now. He could feel her excitement and joy at having him back vibrating at the edge of his attention even now. That Captain Bernadotte was still around so actively surprised him little, but not as much as he’d have predicted. Of course he’d become Seras’s shadow. The man had been amusing at best in life, but had transcended the limitations of his mortal form into something far more interesting and entertaining. A security barrier for the entire manor. It was impressive.

And yet it was Integra that intrigued him the most. She was still herself - that core of ice, steel, and pride she’d had since she was a girl had not dulled in his absence. To his dismay and perhaps a touch of guilt, there was a light that had gone from her eyes. She was sad… Seras claimed constantly, though she clarified Integra hid it until she thought no one was looking.

It just made the No Life King smile. It was not out of cruelty, he had not meant to make her wait so very long. But even before, when he had desired her for his queen, and shared intimacy with her, selfishly spoiling her expectations in the hopes of keeping her for himself and hoping she would never find the touch of another man… he had wanted to die. He knew what it was like to be tired. The press of lives inside him, the cacophony of bitter and angry, scared voices never letting him escape his past. He relived the horrors that had made him what he was in his dreams most nights.

But no more. Now, there was an eerie calm, a peace to his mind. Gone with the turmoil and dinn had gone his self annihilation impulses. Yes, he was a monster. Yes, if he were to be removed from this world it would be at the hands of a human, as it should be. Humans killed monsters, it was the way of things. But he longed for that death no more.

Now, he longed for her.

Still, he longed for her.

And she for him.  _That_ was what drew a smile from him.

Reaching out to run fingers through her impossibly long hair, Alucard's smile broadened. He’d said to his Countess he was home, and he felt the truth of that statement. He also felt Seras trying to eavesdrop down the hall. Without untangling his fingers from Integra’s hair, he reached out his other hand through his new power - is wasn’t even really bending space. His hand was merely both in Integra’s room, and suddenly directly in front of Seras’s face.

Flipping one finger out, Seras yelped like a squeaky toy as she went flying backwards off the chair she was sitting on, and immediately started yelling at him.

“ _That was so mean, Master! Why would you do that I was sitting here minding my own business and you just-”_

 _You were eavesdropping, Police Girl,_ he said to her mind, smirking as the nickname caused her to fuzz like an upset cat. _Do better._

With a sigh and a non-verbal grumble as he reclaimed his hand, he heard her say dejectedly to his mind, _Yes, Master._

Seeing Integra had not stirred, the vampire smiled to himself. So she thought herself old and undesirable, that he was too late. And yet she’d bested every man, every day of training for the last thirty years. She remained the respected head of her family organization, made Hellsing better, stronger than before. This all revealed to him when he had tasted her blood this night, a sweet ambrosia after starving for so long… _and_ there was one little last, precious detail that made his hair curl to think about;  _she was still a virgin_. She had _waited_ on _him_ in more ways than one.

She had missed him.

She was mad, he could feel that. Perhaps not enough to empty a second clip of blessed bullets into him after realizing who her nighttime interloper had been, but… he had some time to make up for before he would get her to agree.

But she would, eventually. Just as he had known she had thirty-two years ago.

She would agree to be his queen. It was time.

***

In the morning, Integra woke alone and wondered if the night before had been a very vivid dream. She looked around her room as she sat up, and felt a chill run down her spine. Surely it had been real…? Looking to her hand, her wound from where she’d fed Alucard was present. And yet it wasn’t enough to assure her.

She rose to dress after a short shower, glancing disapprovingly at herself in the mirror. Refined, mature, distinguished? Feh. Try old. Not to mention the eye patch from where the damned Major of Millennium had shot her. Fist clenched at her side she was still angry about it to this day. Less the vanity and more the lack of depth perception. She’d had to relearn how to shoot, to fence, to write… to do _everything_. That little gremlin had continued to make life hard for her for years after his death.

These thoughts carried her downstairs and into the kitchen for breakfast. She missed the days of Walter’s flapjacks and jam, but Walter had made his choice. Traitor. It had been more than ten years before Seras finally convinced Integra to entertain the notion of hiring another assistant. They’d been through four maids, two butlers and three personal assistants since then, none of which had worked out. The last had been a kind, elderly woman who’d done everything just right, and whose background check had been spotless. Poppy McCarthy had been ex-military and unbothered by the supernatural aspects of the job. She had been with them for six years. She’d taken to Seras and Pip quickly, pinching the walls to make the Captain jump, and told him she’d find his behind one day (much to Seras’s great amusement). McCarthy had intuitively picked up on Integra’s needs as well, keeping distant most days, but always knowing just the right times to say something insightful and uplifting. Come to find out, Poppy had also left a clean set of clothes next to the door of Alucard’s sealed chamber every few days.

She’d been perfect, and Integra had finally started to accept her... when she died. Seemed an unknown heart condition coupled with a vampire attack on the manor had been too much for the elderly woman. Though to her credit, she’d taken out more than a dozen ghouls in the process, and they didn’t get to her at all. She had died a human warrior against the darkness. 

That had been two years ago now, and Integra had not had the heart to go through it all again. It wasn’t that they didn’t need the help, it’s that she was tired of coming to care for people she would inevitably loose. It was part of the job, yes. She was a knight and a soldier who understood this, yes. Years of experience and training had prepared her for difficult decisions and loss. But after Alucard… she felt defeated.

Toast and a boiled egg was for breakfast, and Integra knew she was procrastinating. She wanted to go tearing downstairs, throw open Alucard’s door and see if he was there. She was equally terrified he wouldn’t be. But, she was English Nobility. She didn’t go haring off into a dungeon for anyone. She had dignity and manners, dammit.

 _Perhaps I can save you the trouble, my master_ , came the satin touch of a familiar baritone to her mind.

 _Still reading my mind unbidden, I see_ , she retorted flatly, trying her best to think of sunny days and toast, rather than the thrill of relief and other strong emotions his voice wrung from her.

 _I have missed years of eavesdropping your thoughts,_ he chuckled. _I plan to make up for lost time for that, and many other things_.

With a sigh, she was going to give herself a headache trying to keep her thoughts from him. She’d gotten fairly good at it over the years with help from Seras. But Seras was not as powerful as Alucard yet. Integra had every confidence that she would likely never be able to hide her thoughts from _him_ entirely. So, she tossed the crust of her toast in the bin, and with head held high made her way to the sub-basement. It would be easier to talk to him in person.

 ***

“Don’t think that you can waltz right back in here, appearing like the villain the Irishman wrote you as, over my bed and that tra-la-la everything will go back to how it once was, servant,” she snapped.

Alucard sat in his throne (he’d missed it! It was so much more comfortable than he’d remembered!), legs crossed and trying with all his might not to smile at the platinum haired fury across from him. She was very angry, and he understood why. She was also armed. While it wouldn’t do any lasting damage, Alucard did not care to be shot for a second time in twelve hours.

She was railing on, having perhaps been a touch provoked at his smug suggestion that she sit on his lap. Ranting about the years gone by, what Hellsing had endured, what she had endured, how dare he suggest that nothing had changed, and so on. It all faded in his ears as he watched her. He heard her words, and paid attention, but there was something captivating about her now that had not been before. She was comfortable in her skin, or had been more recently than not. She was no longer the young, angry, tight fisted young woman who’d clung tooth and nail to her inheritance. Her blouse was gathered at the sleeves, not a tailored man’s shirt. Her belt was a woman’s belt. There was a small edge of lace at the end of her tie. This anger was earned, and not an affronted outburst of sensitive pride... 

The storm had passed, and left in its wake a goddess where once a young woman had stood.

“Well?!” she demanded, arms crossed expectantly. “Where do you expect this to go now?”

She meant as the weapon of the organization, as her servant having fully and quickly grasped the extent of his new power. Both her words and her very purposeful thoughts were focused on that.

But in her subconscious mind, he felt the young woman he’d left to go save himself, buried deep in a dark room not unlike the one in which they stood. She was hurt, weeping and very angry, and she wanted to know where _they_ stood.

Integra slowed, as she was the only other thing capable of independent movement in the room, when he began moving in supernatural speed. As he stood and took a step forward, he watched her one blue eye widen- she’d seen him move. She’d not see him now, nor would she again until he stopped in front of her, but it made him smile that she was faster than ever, his lovely, deadly master.

Time resumed it’s proper course when he halted, nearly nose to now with Integra, hand on her gun and having every intent of shooting him again. Alucard could no longer refrain from smiling, holding her wrist to prevent her from unholstering the weapon. “I expect to be your servant in service to the Hellsing Organization until the day you decide that you’re no longer mad at me, that I have paid my penance for the thirty year absence, and that you are ready to join me as my No Life Queen, Intergal Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing.”

Her eye widened, despite the rest of her face remaining stoic. “That… cannot be now. I could not be old for eternity.”

“No?” he asked, leaning down a touch and pulling her closer by the wrist he held. He noted, she did not try and struggle away. “Have you not seen me appear as a child? A girl-child even. I was no Seras Victoria when I became a monster, Countess. My blood, when it courses your veins,” he said as if speaking elicit poetry, “Will wash many years away, and one day, what form you take will be entirely up to you and untouchable by what time once thought to render.”

At that, her blue eye watered a little, and much of her anger fled. “And you?” she asked, refusing to give into the desire to lean against him. “You would still have me?”

Loosing her wrist and wrapping both arms around her, Alucard leaned in to kiss her neck, breathing over her skill and reveling in the shudder that took her body.

“You are my Countess, and have no idea what it took to return to you. The thought of your blood, your body, your kiss… were the desires that created cornerstones within me. When I lost myself, you, my master, were the foundations on which I was able to reclaim who I am. And be here.”

Reaching up to turn her face to him with a gentle finger, one arms still holding her against his chest, he grinned to see the spark of fire back in her one remaining eye. “I would have you here and now, if you gave the word, Countess.”

She damn near said yes. He saw it in her thoughts, felt it in the beat of her heart…

But, the walls cleared their throat?

“ _Pardonne moi, mes amis_ ,” Bernadotte’s voice echoed around them. “Seras wished for me to let Sir Hellsing know that apparently the Vatican is back?”

“I can kill them, and we can continue,” Alucard purred, feeling his temper flare a bit.

But Integra sighed and rest her forehead on Alucard’s shoulder. “They’ll find the family jewels if we leave them be too long, nosy bastards.”

Alucard frowned. “There was no family treasure Arthur or Abraham ever mentioned.”

“That’s because there isn’t any,” Integra chuckled. “That’s the joke. Pip?”

“ _Mademoiselle_?”

“Tell Seras I will be there in a few minutes. And politely fuck off for a moment, if you would?” The disembodied voice of the French mercenary chuckled, but turned his attention elsewhere noticeably, leaving them alone.

“Where were we,” Alucard rumbled, but was surprised when Integra took his face in her hands and kissed him. Chaste at first, her lips parted and he groaned, arms tightening around her waist as he tasted her mouth for the first time in what felt like much longer than thirty years.

It was more than a few minutes. No clothes were shed, nor anything more than a kiss. But it was a scandalous, toe curling affair from which Alucard did not wish to part. Unfortunately, it seemed the Jesus Freaks were starting to give his child a hard time upstairs.

“To be continued,” he purred, lips brushing hers before they parted, and together went to greet the enemy.


	2. Divine Intervention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Section XIII appears unannounced, but the motivations are so much more intriguing than expected.

“Chief Makube,” Integra said walking into the foyer of Hellsing Manor by herself, “To what do I owe the pleasure of you staying in the lobby today, unlike yesterday?”

The older man was tall, Italian, and bore a scar over his right eye that stretched from forehead to jawline. He smiled and spread his hands gracefully, as if to indicate he was also alone. “Today I have no children to entertain,” he smiled. “S’cuzzi for not being able to conclude all business yesterday, Sir Hellsing… but I’m afraid the Vatican does not know that today, I am here.”

Seras, having been leaning against the banister with crossed arms and a dower expression, raised an eyebrow and looked to her human master. That… was a fishy statement from the head of Section XIII, Iscariot Division. Integra was no less impressed or concerned, but her expression remained stoic.

“Well, you have my attention,” she said and turned. “Please, follow me. My office will be more comfortable.”

Up the stairs and to the only door visible from below, Integra lead the way to her office as Makube and Seras followed. The Knight repressed a smirk as she was the only one to see Alucard’s smile fade into the shadows before she opened the curtains behind her desk. “I can assure you, Chief Makube,” Integra said and nodded for Seras to close the door. As she did so the room flashed with black and red energy, Pip securing the room at Seras’s will. “This room is secured from eavesdropping,” Integra finished with a small smirk.

As she sat behind the desk, Makube sat in front, crossing his legs and weaving his fingers on one knee. “I apologize for dropping in unannounced, Director. Unfortunately the nature of this visit is… sensitive.”

“Not to be indelicate, Chief Makube,” Integra said, lighting a cigar, “But shall we cut to the chase?”

Makube smiled patiently. “Of course. There is a leak, a potential traitor to The Vatican and specifically Section XIII within our ranks. I would like to enlist the aid of the Hellsing Organization to investigate and hopefully find this mole.”

Well. That… had not at all been what Integra, Seras, or even Alucard would have predicted coming from this conversation. As Alucard’s deep laughter began to echo around them, Makube’s expression fell from pleasant to concerned, and eventually to slightly upset when Alucard manifested from the shadows in the corner.

“Oh this is quite the welcome home present,” the ancient vampire chuckled.

“When did this occur?” Makube frowned at Integra.

“Last night, actually. I fear you came to call before any official statement could be released. I’d barely finished breakfast when I was alerted of your arrival.”

“He has a plane to catch,” Seras stated of Makube, Arms crossed and standing now near to her vampiric master.

The Chief swallowed audibly, but regained his composure rather quickly. “Well then this may be all the more swift a resolution. Though I must request as few casualties as possible?”

“We’re not murderers, Makube,” Interga’s tone was flat and unforgiving. “We’re monster hunters.”

“Of course, I was not implying anything. Allow me to explain.” Spreading his hands, the Leader of Section XIII went into detail about a few investigative missions that had gone deadly unexpectedly approximately six months prior. At first it had not raised any concerns as these thing happened occasionally. However it seemed that the number and frequency of these events had been slowly increasing, and it was not until a single survivor confessed with in intensive care that the attackers who’d killed them all were not of the original investigated threat. He was then assassinated that night in his hospital room in Vatican City.

“This has happened now outside of Roma, as well,” Makube pressed the tips of his fingers together, elbows resting on the arms of his chair. “Not only does there seem to be a white clad figure leading an attack against the Vatican, but one of our own is giving them information on where to find our people to take them by surprise and murder them all.”

Integra twisted her cigar between two gloved fingers as she thought. Makube was not his aggressive predecessor Maxwell, nor his embittered subordinate Heinkel Wolfe. Neither was she a fool, and an olive branch from the Vatican could still be a trap. The Vatican as a whole had made no bones about believing the Protestant Knights to be blasphemous, and specifically the Hellsing organization, Integra herself in fact, to be the worst of them. She wasn’t entirely certain if she’d been officially declared a witch in the eyes of Rome or not.

And yet intuition told her Makube was sincere. How frustrating.

“With all due respect, Chief Makube, and I mean that sincerely,” the knight said, tapping ashes from the end of her cigar into the ashtray, “I have a far greater respect and appreciation of your methods and approach than I could ever have for your predecessor. But what guarantees do I have that this is not an elaborate trap for my organization?”

“Outside of my personal word and promise that if it is, I have been kept in the dark and know nothing of such a plot?” he sighed and spread his hands. “None. But if this is a trap for Hellsing, it is not the act of Section XIII or an openly sanctioned operation from the Vatican.”

“How delightfully dangerous,” Alucard chuckled, his grin upsettingly wide.

“I also can guarantee you that even if it _is_ a cu,” Makube added, eyeing the elder vampire, “They might, at best, be prepared for you and Ms. Victoria. No one at the Vatican knows of Alucard’s return, clearly.” Meeting eyes with Integra, the chief smiled. “And I don’t intend to enlighten them at this time.”

That… pushed Integra’s eyebrows up.

“Noted,” she said, keeping all other surprise from her response. “If we agree, what would be expected of us in this endeavor?”

“Discretion. Once we leave this room, I will deny any knowledge of this conversation. I merely came by to apologize  for any offensive comments Agent Heinkel Wolfe made yesterday.” Makube sighed and shook his head. “The most recent attack happened this morning in the wee hours. We received the briefest of communications in the form of a video message from one of ours before they were killed and the phone destroyed. The White Cloaked figure was seen for a brief second. Does it not, to you, seem as if a supernatural threat in Scotland, where this occurred, would be reason enough for Hellsing to investigate?”

“Will the Vatican let us onto the site?” Seras inquired.”

“By the time you arrive, they will not have yet. The scene is being held for their investigation, but you can arrive first. I will… waylay them as long as I can. Heinkel and my assistant have not yet been informed, or Agent Wolfe would very much want to go. However, I will handle that.”

“I see. So we are to go as soon as now, then?” Integra grumbled.

“I know we are not… friends, Sir Hellsing,” Makube started, leaning forward in his chair. “I know that the Vatican sees the Protestants of your Council of Twelve and the Hellsing Organization as heretics, and in the past has been an open enemy. However, we want the same thing - safety of the people, and the end to monsters. And this… has potential to threaten us all.”

“I doubt greatly that a single other member of your organization would agree that we have the same goals,” Integra sighed and stood, snuffing her cigar out. “However I agree that if there is someone hunting the Iscariot, it is at least prudent to make certain that they will not turn their aggression toward Hellsing, The Council or The King once they are done.”

Makube gave a partial smile and nodded, standing to take Integra’s hand as Alucard’s chuckling began to grow in volume. “I will accept that, Sir Hellsing.”

“Should we find this mole along the way, how should we be in contact?”

“A phone call to my mobile will suffice. I should think we can communicate in such a way that anyone near would not decipher the information exchanged.”

With a nod, Integra watched as Seras escorted the man out. When the door was closed she closed her eyes and shook her head. “I do _not_ like this.”

“Oh come now, my master,” Alucard purred in open amusement. “This, will be _fun._ ”

Integra sighed and cut her eyes to Alucard. “Your definition of fun differs greatly from mine.” Standing, she tilted her head to one side and cracked her neck in the attempts to relieve a newly growing tension. “I will get my things together. Yours are in your rooms below,” she explained and turned to him with a look of narrow suspicion. “Have you been down there yet?”

With a wide grin, Alucard stepped back towards the shadowed corner of her office. “Why look at some dusty old stones, when I have such a lovely view of angels from up here?” But any retort Integra might have had she kept to herself. It was no fun to say it to the wall, and Alucard was gone.

***

“I don’t like it, Master,” Seras grumped from the wall of Integra’s bedroom. She leaned, much as she had downstairs, with arms crossed against the wall. It was a good way to tell when Seras was unhappy about something. She hadn’t pouted in years, not in sincerity. But when she was displeased about something, her face tilted down and she crossed her arms. Everyone had tells, if one knew for what to look.

“I don’t either, Seras,” Integra sighed and tucked the neatly folded change of clothes into her small overnight bag. It was never a poor idea to bring a change of clothes to a murder investigation. Better to not need it than need it and be caught without. “But we won’t know if it is a trap until the trap has been sprung, and if it is not, and Makube actually came to us for help, then perhaps that is a bargaining chip we can use in the future.”

“What could we _possibly_ bargain with the zealots and fanatics for?”

“For them to stay the hell away from us.”

Seras wobbled her head back and forward at that in consideration. “Alright, you have a point there. Want I should get my things?”

“No, I want you to stay here. The men trust you, and as much as these words are foul tasting to fall from my lips, Makube is right. They will not be prepared for Alucard.” Integra sneered. “I hope I never have to say that again.”

“Yeah, that statement physically hurts me to hear from you, Master.”

“ _I think I threw up a little myself,_ ” Pip chimed in.

“EW GROSS NO THROWING UP INSIDE ME!”

“ _WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? Dégueuler all over Integra’s floor?!”_

“Children, please,” Integra sighed, zipping her bag. “Seras, I must go purchase plane tickets for myself and Alucard. Would you please call Sir Gregory? I’ll need to speak with him.”

“Why Sir. Gregory?” Seras and Pip asked in unison.

Integra just smiled. “Because, he will agree to help me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. HOW'S THAT FOR A TWIST?
> 
> I actually am planning to use a version of Makube that is based on his wiki entry on the [fandom wiki](http://hellsing.wikia.com/wiki/Makube). The idea that he's was less RIGHT NOW BURN IT DOWN Zealoted, and more about the long game/tolerant than Maxwell and Wolfe, among others actually interests me. I also like the notes about the "prototype manga" character that became Makube... and there might be some of that if he pops up more later. Especially the shot gun.
> 
> Poor [Sir Gregory](http://hellsing.wikia.com/wiki/Sir_Gregory_Penwood). For now.
> 
> (∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT?! ｡ﾟ･*.｡ﾟ☆--c(`-' ∩) (Don't worry, I'm not entirely sure yet either...)


	3. The Righteous Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Integra and Alucard make good on their word to Chief Makube. The grizzly truth, however, only leads to more questions.  
> 
> 
> ++Warning++  
>  _This is where the graphic depictions label really comes in. As I've said before, if you're here cause you love Hellsing, then I would think this isn't unexpected, but just to be sure. It's referred to as "The Grizzly Truth" above for a reason._

Seras was more than prepared for her role to stay behind and hold down the fort in London as Integra purchased plane tickets to Scotland. Sir Gregory Penwood returned Seras’s call in this time and Integra said that she had to speak with the council as soon as she was back… But there was a pressing matter of supernatural murder to which she had to see. At first, Sir Penwood said that was clearly understandable and was confused as to why this seemed problematic. 

“Because I will be taking the ultimate weapon of Hellsing with me, and the council needs to know,” Integra said over the clicking sound of her keyboard as she typed in ticket information.

“I’m sure the Convention of Twelve will have n-no issue with Seras Victoria accompanying you, Sir Integra…” The young man said. He wasn’t stupid, actually very intelligent. It wasn’t his fault he was no good at the combat training they’d been trying to give him. Integra sighed. 

“It will not be Seras accompanying me. Alucard has returned, as of last night.”

Silence.

More silence. 

“Sir Penwood?”

Still more silence.

“ _ Gregory! _ ” she snapped in what Seras had dubbed her “Headmaster’s” voice.

“Y-yes ma’am!” he said nervously. “You mean I am to tell the Convention that… that Alucard has returned and is with you on official Hellsing business… before they can-”

“Yes.”

“B-but… why me, Sir?”

“Because, Sir Penwood,” she said with a sigh but sincerity, “I trust you. As does the Convention. You have no ulterior motives, so there will be no question in your words and retelling of events. Were this not a time sensitive matter I would come first to the Convention and  _ then  _ leave.”

“But that is not currently an option, I assume,” the younger man sighed. “What is this business, precisely?”

“A murder investigation of supernatural origin, that we must beat the Vatican to, if we wish to know anything.” He needed plausible deniability, and Integra planned to play this one against the chest, unless it became necessary to inform the Twelve.

“Oh, yes, please,” Penwood said genuinely. “I will inform the Council. Go, make sure Alucard doesn’t cause too much collateral if you can, please, but don’t worry about the Convention until you return. I will handle it.”

Integra smiled. Gregory Penwood had no love of the Catholic Church, liked Section XIII even less, and was a young man of his word. “Thank you, Sir Penwood,” she said letting the smile be heard in her voice. “You have my word that we will return to speak with the Twelve promptly upon our return both over what is found and Alucard himself.”

Hanging up the phone, Integra printed the information they would need at the airport and stood, grabbing her bag to head for the door. But something turned in her stomach, and she paused. It wasn’t a physical source - Integra knew a gut instinct when she felt it thought this was a little more intense than normal. 

Something was going to go wrong. She wasn’t sure when, how, or where… but soon.

In her pause, she closed her remaining good eye and took a slow, deep breath in through her nose to try and focus her mind, see if she could glean anything from the feeling that her subconscious might be picking up on. There was a cold chill that ran down her spine that spoke of violent, rapid change… but nothing she could put a finger on. 

In her meditative moment, she also felt the air in the room change. Opening her eyes slowly, she shook her head. “Before you ask, I don’t know. Not for certain.”

“And what, pray tell, do you think I was going to ask?” Alucard’s deeply amused voice came from behind her. 

“What I could glean from my intuition.”

She didn’t have to glance over her shoulder to know he was smirking. “But you gleaned  _ something _ .”

“Change. Quick. Likely upsetting, or messy,” she stated, finally turning over her shoulder to look at him. “But no idea when, or details.”

“Details are rarely forthcoming with intuition,” he rumbled, his expression softening to bemused affection. “That you paused to analyze is a new habit. I wonder, when did you start do that?”

Her eyes narrowed, a sharp and embittered splinter in her heart stinging for a moment at his words, though more the words and less the man. Less was not entirely, however. “Thirty years is a  _ very _ long time.”

With a slow blink of his red eyes, Integra thought that perhaps Alucard acknowledged he’d earned that statement, even if just a little. He had, after all, come back as soon as he’d had been able to. “ _ Touché _ , my master. Let us proceed with caution, then, shall we?”

She nodded and turned on heel, marching out of her office and towards whatever fate awaited them.

***

Rain awaited them in Scotland. The deluge from the late morning’s black clouds impeded visibility as well as traffic, it seemed. Normally in such straights with the Vatican fast approaching, Integra would have merely walked. But not in this weather. No tto a murder scene where being soaking wet might disturb evidence.

It took longer than she would have liked to get there, and Alucard gleaned all this from nothing more than the expressions on her face. Even the tiniest of eye twitches, and he could read her irritation. She really was magnificent in her maturity. She’d become so much more in control of her reactions and expressions, refined and dignified to a magnitude greater than she had achieved in her youth. 

How he longed to bring her to his side and rule the night together. The composure to his madness. 

All too soon for his liking, however, the cab pulled up in front of a midland nice hotel as Integra said, “We’re here.”

Though the rain was too heavy to sense anything outside, once in the lobby Alucard could smell a grizzly and already aging death. The mortals around clearly could not, though they had not failed to notice a police presence. Even Integra didn’t yet smell it, but he predicted it would not be long before she would. 

He watched as she attempted to flash her papers and be allowed up to the third floor to the crime scene, but the authorities were staunch in that though they were not yet here, the Vatican had called and given orders that no one was to go in as the victim was one of their own. They “were awaiting last rights” before the scene could be investigated as the young officer stonewalled. 

Slipping his orange lensed glasses down his nose, Alucard was growing bored with waiting, and looking forward to seeing the no doubt nightmarish scene that awaited them. Catching the young man’s eye, he said softly, “You will allow us entry. Everything is fine. We’re expected.”

“I will allow you entry,” the young man said dully, as his eyes glassed over, “Everything is fine. You’re expected.”

Integra bit the tip of her tongue behind closed lips and waited until they were on the elevator with the door closed to speak. “Seras is not nearly as good at that as you.”

“I’ve had quite a bit more practice,” he chuckled, pushing his glasses back up his nose. 

“I believe she also does not like having to do it.”

Alucard smirked. “I would also wager she has not taken another life in my absence. Drank another soul?”

“No. She has not.”

“Hmm,” he chuckled. “She retains such humanity, even as a monster. I wonder if you will do the same?”

“Will?” she asked in subtle incredulity, not bothering to look at him. “I have agreed to nothing.”

“Of course, my master,” he said in sly amusement. “But you will. In time.”

Refusing to dignify his conceit with a response, the elevator stopped and doors slid open. Now, Integra could smell what he had scented from the door downstairs. They need not ask where to go, as the room was just outside the elevator, and the stench was overwhelming. 

It was a cruel illusion. The door to the hotel room stood open, the officers on either side having been informed that “everything was fine”, and that “they were expected” over radio, stepped aside to let the vampire and his master pass. The illusion started in the entryway to the hotel room, where everything was pristine. The small hall and closet door mirrored the white fluorescent light from the bathroom opposite were the sterile white that modern hotel rooms adopted, putting Alucard in mind of hospitals more often than not. Not that he spent much time in either. Perhaps that was from whence his perceptions came. 

Pulled from his musings as Integra stopped abruptly in front of him, she’d produced a handkerchief from her pocket to cover her face as one keen eye took in what lay beyond the perfect little foyer. The walls were painted red with blood spatter. Gobbets and other offal stuck to the paint, ceiling, lampshade, TV and mirror in small pieces like grizzly sprinkles on a ghastly cupcake. The larger pieces had been subject to gravity, lining the edges of the room where they’d slid down at some point after having been splattered. It was clear that someone had apparently had at least most of them exploded in some manner… though in a place it had left the entry damn near spotless. 

The untouched nature of the entry hall, genuinely amused Alucard.

It also told him a few things - Whatever had done this did it quickly. Also, the amputated leg he could now see had been ripped off before the human bomb went off. The marks of detachment were ripped like a turkey leg, not an explosive force. So it seemed their ex-Iscariot victim had been tortured a bit before their demise. 

But these were not the most upsetting details. No, there was another stink to the air, one Alucard hadn’t smelled in a dog’s age. A smell that as a child he’d been told to run from, and even now earned a raised eyebrow of surprised interest from the Vampire King. It would be hard, if not impossible for Integra to scent as she was now, but to Alucard, the smell of rotting fruit and curdled milk stood out as a sharp note over the human death. 

There had been a Fae here. 

Leaving no energy signatures or magics for him to feel out, whoever had been here had covered their tracks with the grizzly display, and as Integra looked over the whole scene, her eyes landed to the final detail at the same time Alucard’s did. 

The victim’s head was sitting in the middle of the floor. Expression frozen in terror and eyes slack. Iit was otherwise pristine and untouched where it stared sightlessly at the doorway. Currently, at Integra and Alucard. 

“It’s a message,” Integra said grimly from behind her kerchief. “My God, Alucard. What could have done this?”

“A werewolf, a Fae and at least one other human were in here at or near the time of this Iscariot’s demise,” he said evenly. “I’d wager the werewolf is what gnawed on our unfortunate friend’s leg… prior to death.”

“He was… tortured?”

“Yes.”

“Unfortunate. It seems someone has taken quite the exception to Section XIII.”

“I can promise, my master, it was not me.”

That earned him a look, her one perfect eye narrowed. “Why _would_ it be?”

“I take exception to Section XIII,” he grinned. 

She rolled her eye and looked back to the room, not daring to go in farther and disturb the crime scene. The remains were all over the floor. “So someone tortured and then brutally murdered this person in a purposefully gruesome manner, retaining the head for a message… and there is another within the Iscariot feeding information to these monsters to do so.”

“Sounds like a grudge,” the No Life King grinned. “Perhaps….”

When his pause went on longer than was normal, Integra prompted, “Perhaps what?”

“Perhaps, despite diplomacy, we let Section XIII fight this battle on their own.”

“I know you’re not afraid. So, why bow out?”

“You cannot escape the Fae… easily.”

She frowned. “Thought you were now omnipresent of a sort. Why would that be a concern?”

Alucard paused. She wasn’t going to like this, and that actually stripped some of his amusement over imagining the entirety of the Iscariot being popped like grizzly balloons at the hand of the Tooth Fairy. “You misunderstand, my master. That was not a generalized ‘you’.”

She stilled, and Alucard looked to his master out of the corner of his eye to watch her realization dawn. “Ah. I see. Involvement draws attention, and you believe this will be unwanted attention in a means that perhaps we are not as of yet fully prepared to defend against.”

_ You know what I meant, my master _ , his voice said to her mind.

_ Well if I personally am not defended against them with you as my protector, then what hope do any of our number have, should they decide to turn on the Hellsing Organization? _   Taking one step back, she turned to exit the room. “I’ve seen enough.”

Alucard followed in the blink of an eye as they took the elevator again. “What are your orders, my master?” he asked as the doors slid closed. 

Silent for a long moment, Integra’s hand was clutched in a fist against her lips. “If this is a grudge against the Iscariot, fulfilling Makube’s request would draw unwanted attention from this Fae. Yet what guarantees have we that once they’ve taken out the Iscariot, possibly the Vatican as a whole, that they will not then turn to other anti-freak organizations such as ours?”

“None,” they both said in unison. 

“But letting them take out the Iscariot, if that is the goal, and not merely a few select individuals will do two things,” Alucard grinned, “Give us time to prepare if that is the road it walks… and eliminates an enemy for us.”

“Alucard,” she admonished coldly, “Fools and enemies they may be, but Section XIII, The  _ Vatican _ , represents dozens, _hundreds_  of lives.”

He raised his eyebrows to her in answer, as if that were of no consequence to him. It wasn’t. Not in his mind.

“ _ Alucard _ ,” she hissed, “Human lives, some no doubt English lives, are at stake.”

Puckering his lips, as if against speaking for a moment, Alucard sighed through his nose. Her  _ Noblesse Oblige _ would not allow her to do nothing, it seemed. Great. If there was one thing the No Life King despised more than Nazis and their brood, it was the Fae. 

Back in the lobby, Integra was already on her cell telling the Council that an emergency meeting was needed and to arrange for the King to sit in on said meeting. It seemed that if nothing else, these crimes occurring on United Kingdom soil was enough to merit concern, even if Rome and their little church seemed to be the targets and not initially the concern of The Crown. He watched her, as she spoke into the phone and hailed a cab at the same time. It was still raining but not as hard. He’d watched her earlier search her intuition for detail. This was not it, this was not the change that was coming - as he had felt it too… but whatever fate had in store, the Vampire King knew it was centering around his master. 

Somehow, he knew this tied into it, and knew whatever was coming would not be good but would be soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Here we are. I finally have 12% of a plan. But only for the next few chapters. I know Who. I know Why. There are other questions to answer, but we're getting there. 
> 
> The calm before the storm...


	4. The Black Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returning from Scotland, Integra speaks with the Convention of Twelve and comes home to find some interesting guests asking for her.

As soon as wheels were on the ground, Integra was all business. It had only been forty-five minutes in the air, but Alucard had not halted the progress of the brief nap she’d taken. Partly because he felt the weary tiredness in her bones, and partly because she’d leaned over on him in her sleep. When she’d shot him a look upon waking, he just grinned and said, “Seems I’ve gone soft in my old age. I didn’t even try to read your dreams.”

She’d not dignified his words with a response, and started making calls. Scholars, Convention Members, protectors of the king alike. She’d been nervous about taking Alucard to the council after so long this morning, he’d felt it. But now, it seemed a Fae was far more concerning.

Less than an hour later, Alucard was accompanying Integra down a familiar hallway towards the rebuild inner sanctum of The Twelve. It was different. He’d not seen what destruction had been rendered here during Millennium’s raid of London, but he had no doubt it had been terrible. While all the materials were new, the spirit of the building was ever the same, as if despite the building being rent asunder, the spirit of Duty, Faith and Loyalty would never been removed from this place.

No outward reaction, the Vampire King was amused. How wonderful was humanity that they could create, unknowingly, such power in a single place.

Too soon they were in the War Room and Inner Sanctum. Integra took her place at the table, and Alucard at her shoulder with a grin to see so many new but familiar face… plastered with terror in most cases. This was already more fun than his last council meeting.

“Gentlemen,” Integra said flatly, “I will not bore you with the details already in my missive that you have no doubt read. Alucard is returned. Hellsing Organization intends to resume operating procedures as they were thirty years ago with exceptions made for outdated protocols. Questions?”

“Where did it go?”

“Why come back now, why not sooner?”

“How do we know we can trust him?”

“Gentlemen,” Sir Gregory Penwood cleared his throat. “One at a time.”

“Oh be silent, Penwood, just because-”

Penwood turned and looked at the slightly older man at the table near him and interrupted. “Sir Walsh, I understand your concerns, but interrupting and slander is no way to conduct yourself. You’re a knight, sir - _Do_ try and act like it.”

Watching the young man, who so looked like his late grandfather, slap down the other, older member and return eyes to Integra made Alucard smirk.

“Thank you, Sir Penwood. The answers are in my report that you will have all received an encrypted copy of in email by now, as well as detailed plans on how to proceed with Alucard going forward.” It was in the event of her death that she left that to the council, though a part of her knew it would never happen. Either Alucard would make her his Queen, or he would no longer be bound into service, as the blood of a Hellsing was what the rituals and alchemy was tied to. She was the last. And it seemed, as he followed her thoughts, that she was also aware bound was a relative term, meaning much different now than it once had - she understood his new abilities mean that he would likely as not never be bound again lest it be his choice. A dangerous reality, that.

And none of that was in her report. Not really. Not in so many words, at least. Alucard was grinning, a few of the more cagey knights actively leaning further away to see this.

“I’m sure your report is detailed enough that we can move on for the moment,” the son of her once Councillor Sir Hugh Irons, the young Sir Henry Irons, declared. “The King regretted to inform us that he would be unable to attend, however it is my duty to take this information to his assistant directly after this meeting convenes.

“I’ll put it bluntly, gentlemen,” Integra said with a nod to Sir Irons, “There has been a heinous murder in his Majesty’s kingdom, and it seems to be targeting freak hunters like ourselves. We have no indication that it will or will not target us specifically, however the hunter killed in Scotland was tortured before death and was left as a message.”

“What message?”

Integra shook her head. “That they are coming and eliminating people as they go.”

“Are these related to the murdered of members of the Iscariot, in Rome?”

“I believe so,” Integra nod. “But the Vatican is the only one that can say for certain. While they are not our largest supporters, they are allies against the darkness, like it or not. They will not accept our aid, but we can investigate from our side, the things that happen here, and if something pertinent comes up, then perhaps strike a bargain for the information and requesting what they discover in return. We have no guarantees that only the Vatican is being targeted, and should treat this as a threat to us all for the time being.”

“Agreed,” sad Sir Irons, and then each member around the table. It was unanimous. When the details were worked out, Hellsing planning to investigate, and communicate with the Convention only when necessary to prevent membership exposure, Integra stood. Thanking the Council and assuring them she would be available for questions, Alucard followed her out once more.

At the exit door, Integra paused and Alucard felt it as well. Something…. Changed in the air. Integra pushed forward, dismissing it as the meeting and tension of some of the knights, but Alucard waited until the door was open to move again, making sure there was nothing lurking.

 _Master,_ Seras’s voice said to him mind as Integra got in and started her car, giving him an expectant look.

_Yes, Seras?_

After Alucard ducked into the car, they were off headed towards Hellsing Manor as the sense of foreboding built in his mind.

_There are some weird people here asking for Master Integra. Two men and a woman, and one is a werewolf. They’re all something, but the lady smells human with magic if this damn itching is any indication, and the other man smells so bad, I have no idea…_

_Rotten fruit and burned sugar?_

_Ooh that’s it, master! Nailed it. You know what it is then?_

_Seras, go downstairs and wait for us to return. Do not engage,_ he thought to her urgently, but tried to keep the spike of anxiety out of his inner voice. It was happening. It was time, and hopefully he could get there before they killed Seras.

 _Well too bloody late for that,_ she grumbled. _They’re droning on about the history of the architecture of the damn staircase and how it’s original or something. To be fair, the werewolf seems as painfully bored as I am, but the Stinky Guy and the lady are just basically verbally masturbating each other over hand carved stairs._

“I assume you are speaking with Seras?” Integra asked without taking her eyes from the road.

“We have company. They arrived and asked for you.” He debated what options were available to him. He needed to get to Seras. Stairs or not he believed her in danger. “How fast does this automobile go?”

“Fast as it needs to,” Integra said and put her foot down.

_We are on our way, Seras._

 

***

“I’m really fine,” Seras said reassuringly, but also a hint of confusion in the kitchen where Integra and Alucard had summoned her. “I mean, okay, yes - I have been bored to tears, and I can believe that they are murderous Hunter Hunters, absolutely. But I don’t think they’re here to kill me. Or us, actually. I think if they were I’d already be dead, don’t you?”

Alucard sneered. The smell of Fae permeated even into a room which it had not been and on principal, he wanted to end it. However it seemed Integra was thinking. “Did they say what they wanted?”

“To talk. About the Vatican,” Seras held up a finger and winked. “You think they’re gonna confess and you can tell Makube, and we can be done being friendly with them?”

“Seras, it’s been only eight hours since Makube was here.”

“Yes and I’ve been itching about it ever since, so I’d like to stop being buddies with them so I can stop itching!”

“That is your intuition, Police Girl. Try listening to it,” Alucard grumbled.

“I have been,” Seras snapped, “And my intuition is telling me that the deal with the Iscariot is shit, and that these people didn’t come here intending to kill anyone just talk. How about maybe I get a little credit and _you_ _two_ listen to my intuition?”

She really didn’t like being called Police Girl anymore. She never had, but it seemed thirty years of his absence and Integra using it as a sarcastic reminder for the draculina to stop and think had shortened that fuse quite a bit. Alucard smirked.

“Fine,” Integra said and took a slow, deep breath and bent to take the fire poker from beside the kitchen fireplace. Tucking it out of site behind her arm, under her jacket, she looked to Alucard. “I assume you have blessed silver bullets?

“Are there any other kind?” She was going in there, against her better judgement, and he would follow.

“Let’s go see what they want.”

Striding out militantly, Integra led with her vampires at either shoulder to find the three interlopers milling politely about the foyer, and coming no further in. Alucard smiled knowing that that would earn them a brownie point with his master. Even if they ended up being splattered all over the floor of the same foyer, there would be that one point for them over the Vatican.

But his smile faded as the weight of years began to press on him. Not his own, but predictably that of the Fae’s… and the human’s?

Taking a detailed accounting as Integra introduced herself, Alucard noted that the woman and the Fae seemed surprised when they looked at him. He smiled in return. The human smelling woman was lovely - pale skin, dark hair with the highlights red light a fine, polished mahogany. She was shorter than average, but carried herself regally in her white business suit and heels. Lipstick dark red and otherwise little makeup to accentuate her natural beauty, Alucard had never felt such magics as he did from her. It was old, and she was quite strong, but there was an edge of something familiar… something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. She was far, far older than she appeared. Older than Alucard himself, and yet she was human. How… how could that be?

The Fae wasn’t even pretending to look at Integra, but instead openly staring, with a touch of horror at Alucard. He was average height, taller than his white clad counterpart, dressed in an expensive black, silk suit that had the slighted sheen of green and blue in the light. His hair was Silver, not salt and pepper, merely silver, sideburns and eyebrows matching despite his youthful appearance.

 _You… died_ , Alucard heard a somewhat nasally, upperclass accent, whispered just beside his ear. It wasn’t a physical sound… it was in his mind. Fae magic.

 _No,_ Alucard said, forcing his voice into the mind of the fae which upset the creature further, _Just took a vacation._

The werewolf was a young man, not much older than Seras appeared, leaning against the wall and hunched over his phone into which earbuds were plugged. He listened to music that was too loud, brown hair and wolflike yellow eyes seemingly ignoring everything around him. Alucard knew better, the werewolf was paying attention, scenting, and would be able to react faster than the other two, likely.

The woman in white was named Moira, Alucard overheard. He’d not caught the fae or the wolf boy’s names, but it didn’t matter. Moira was clearly the leader.

“Now that pleasantries are out of the way,” Integra said, clearly her throat and adopting and relaxed stance, “What do you want?” She’d gotten very good at faking that, Alucard noted. He’d been standing at her shoulder smiling unnervingly while Seras took on the adorable role of ‘big bad vampire’ on the other side of their master. His earlier trepidation stood. These people were the agents of fate - be it Fae magic, or whatever actions they would put into motion, this was it… but Alucard had no earthly idea what it would be. So he stayed quiet. And vigilant.

“Why is the Hellsing Organization investi’gate’n the Vatican slayin’s?” Moira asked, her accent thick though Alucard wasn’t sure if it was Scottish, Irish or much, much older leftovers of Gaelic. He was betting that last one. “I’d been lead ta’ believe that yer outfit was enemies o’ tha’ Iscariot.”

Giving nothing away in posture or expression, Integra produced a cigar from her jacket pocket, Alucard reaching around to light it with her lighter easily and allow her to continue holding her obfuscated iron poker, while making it all look natural. “If there is a murder of such supernatural origins in the United Kingdom, then it is our duty to the King and Kingdom to investigate. Regardless of victim’s employment.”

“You knew going in,” The Fae stated, and Alucard had an inspiration. The potency of the Fae’s stench to his nose was similar what Alucard had smelled in the Scottish hotel, over the viscera. The fae had been there when they were, hidden. “You knew it was of the Iscariot.”

“You were there,” Alucard rumbled, drawing the fae and Moira’s attention. His smile curled cruelly. “You heard our conversation. So, why don’t we cut the crap and you tell us why you’re really here. I tire of this dance.”

Moira’s lips were pressed together tightly, jaw working as she debated a moment, and then held up a hand from the white clutch she had been holding. “Fine. Fine. The truth, then. I am Moira Reid, last of the First Clan and what you would call a Druid. I seek to destroy the Iscariot, and the Vatican for Rome’s crimes against my people starting more than a thousand years ago up to and through anything in the last ten years. I have no quarrel with Hellsing Organization, and merely look to avenge my family, my ancestors and ensure that the magics they stole from us are no longer used in service to evil men.”

Seras, Integra, and even Alucard were so stunned that the hall was perfectly silent for a few seconds. It was Integra that recovered first. “And what of the men that are not evil within the church? I have no love for the Vatican, nor the Iscariot. Working as allies is sometimes a necessary evil. I fully believe that Maxwell’s failed 9th crusade is not over, and that one day again England and this world will see the Catholic Church attempt to truly rule it once and for all, and Hellsing will stand in defense of His Majesty as we always have. _However_ ,” Integra ashed into a near ashtray, still managing to maintain her relaxed facade. “I cannot condone wanton murder of true innocents of which there are many in the church.”

“None associated with the Catholic church are truly innocent,” Hawthorne the Fae said.

“I disagree,” Integra stated flatly.

“Here,” Moira said calmly, handing her clutch to Hawthorne and holding up her hands inoffensively. “May I touch your face? A show of goodwill and a gift, if I may.”

“I’d prefer you didn’t,” Integra said flatly, but it was too late. Having expected the refusal, Moira reached out and cupped Integra's face as a flurry of things happened. Alucard drew his gun faster than anyone else could move, even Seras, and pressed the barrel of Casull to Moira’s temple. Hawthorne, never taking his eyes from Alucard as he seemed to understand the true threat in the room, moved to point a gun at Integra’s head, only to be waylaid by Seras and find himself staring down the barrel of an anti-tank gun. It wasn’t Seras’s personal favorite, but it would do less damage if fired in the house. Integra and the werewolf did not move.

But Alucard, when the Mexican Standoff came to a stand still, smelled something odd as the Druid’s magic tingled over his skin, and Integra was frowning. There was a wet pop, and Integra winced with a hiss of surprise and discomfort, but did not stop the druid from reaching up and removing Integra’s eye patch… to reveal a restored, undamaged and perfectly blue eye underneath.

“We come to ask you to not aid your enemies,” Moira said as Alucard frowned, Integra trying to hide her utterly gobsmacked reaction. She managed, but Seras and Alucard could feel the depth of shock, confusion and even stunned gratitude inside their master. “Let us do this. Let me have my war, and then I will fade into obscurity, never to harm another again.”

“How… did you…?” Seras asked, stealing glances at integra out of the corner of her eye.

“Regeneration,” Moira explained. “I am over a thousan’ years old. Tis a rite, undergone by certain healers and spiritual leaders amongst Tha First Clan. The Vatican stole it, and made soldiers centuries ago. Even taking some of our own with them.

“Anderson,” Alucard smirked.

Moira’s head snapped to Alucard for the first time. “Why do ye say that name?”

“He was a priest. A Regenerator, with the Iscariot. Did you know him?”

Swallowing audibly, Moira seemed to become emotional. “Aye. I did. He was my descendant.”

Integra’s eyes narrowed. “So he underwent the Rite…”

“And it was perfection for him, as his blood lended to it. Called to it. It was his heritage,” Moira nodded. “He never learned how to share his gift, though. He would have been a spiritual leader in our clan, where I am a healer.

Still looking around with her newly restored depth perception, Integra took a deep breath through her nose and sighed. “Your gracious gift will not go to waste,” she said of her eye, “But I must ask, what do you plan to do if we refuse to disallow the killing of innocents?”

“That t’would be a sad day indeed,” Moira said, and seemed genuinely sympathetic to that idea. “I do not wish to leave enemies. Believe me,” she said and glanced to Alucard, who just smiled like a hungry wolf. Anderson’s progenitor, hmm? Oh how delightful.

“Can you swear to me that no innocents will be slain in your wake?” Integra asked matter of factly. Moira’s lips tucked into her mouth and she winced, clearly unable to promise such. “Then, I am afraid you leave us no choice,” Integra sighed.

Alucard and Seras’s guns still aimed for Moira ad Hawthorne (The werewolf still actively disinterested against the wall), Integra took a step back. “Come. Let them go. We will see them on the field of battle, but as they came in peace we will allow them to leave in peace.”

“Master….” Seras said trying not to sound whiny. She’d been looking forward to seeing if the Fae would splatter or get up. Alucard lowered his gun but just kept smiling.

“You are honorable, Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing,” Moira said sadly, as the werewolf pushed off the wall and came to stand near here, never taking his eyes from his cell phone game. “I hate that it has come to this. I hope one day you will forgive me.”

Alucard had turned his back to join Integra with the intent of taking a knee as a show of fealty to intimidate the Druidess, which meant he was a split second too late.

Integra frowned at Moira’s words and asked, “For what?” In the same moment, Alucard heard the Druid’s clutch open and smelled the oil from a well maintained gun a moment before the shot went off. It seemed that much like her late progeny, Moira Reid was super-humanly fast. Alucard turned to look at Seras in slow motion as he’d been genuinely concerned they were going to kill her earlier that day, but as his eyes passed over Integra there may as well have been a stake plunged into his heart.

Moira had not shot Seras. That was telling - clearly she know it would not have done any good. No, she’d shot Integra.

The gut wound was messy, and already bleeding profusely in the stunned heartbeat everyone stood motionless in the foyer. “For this,” Moira whispered thickly. “I’m sorry. Aye jus' need ta keep you busy long enough for us to complete our task.”

Alucard turned and without a word put a bullet between Moira’s eyes. He tried to get a second one, but the werewolf caught his leader as her body flew back with the force of Alucard’s shot and Hawthorne the Fae grabbed them both. In a surge of power and the blink of an eye they disappeared into thin air.

“ _Master_!” Seras wailed as Integra started to fall, blue eyes wide in shock as the iron firepoker clattered to the ground. Seras went to catch her, but suddenly Alucard was there. Her weight in his arms was nothing, and he cradled her against his chest as he had when she was a child. He didn’t dare pull her through shadows to her room, though it would be faster - he had no idea what effect that might have on her wounded body. “M-master,” Seras stuttered, following Alucard. “What… is she…?”

“ _Ma cherie,_ ” Pip said softly around them, “ _Perhaps… you and I should make sure those freaks are no longer on the grounds, oui? Unless you need us, Alucard?_ ”

Their answer was Alucard slamming the door of Integra’s room in their face. “ _Well, cherie, shall we?_ ”

“She’s my master too, _dammit_ ,” Seras said, tears in her eyes, saying loud enough to be heard through the door. “And _I_ never _abandoned_ her!” There was of course no answer, nor did Seras really expect one, but she was worried and scared. “Pip, what… do you think think will happen?”

“ _I do not know, petite_ ,” he said honestly with sympathy, manifesting from the wall and reaching out to tuck her under one arm as she came to him. “ _Y_ _our blood heals mortals. Your blood is his blood. He may yet be able to heal her_.”

“You know that’s not true,” Seras rasped, throat tight. “I smelled it, I know, so you know. She’s dying Pip.”

He did know it, too. Looking to the door closed in their faces, Pip made certain that the room was protected, but that he was not paying attention to the goings on. “ _Come, Seras. Let us do what we can to protect them, oui? Lock this place down, maybe trace those bastards, if we can?_ ”

Reluctantly, Seras allowed her soul familiar to pull her away from the door, though her gaze lingered. The itching that had started when the Iscariot’s Chief Makube showed up that morning had stopped. Clearly, Alucard had been right, and she needed to listen better to her intuition for more detail, of for no other reason than to form better arguments when Integra was being stubborn.  
  
Seras just hoped that she'd get a chance to have a next time with Integra. Surely... she'd agree to let Alucard change her. Surely...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not Sorry.  
> I promise I will have more out asap as I predict I will be getting many messages after this chapter is posted...  
> I also promise tidbits, or nebulous things that have now been mentioned will be explained in time. Like Anderson being Moira's descendant. There were so many things about Anderson that were unknown, like his age and origin both mundanely and his regeneration. Well, I plan to run with that. 
> 
> As for Hawthorne - I was discussing with a friend that I recently introduced to Hellsing Ultimate, and we were talking about some of the weirder characters, like Zorin and her weird alchemy/witchcraft, and Schrodinger. Schrodinger specifically we talked about being a cat-like entity who was jovial and able to appear in multiple layers of reality and seemed not unlike "a Cheshire Cat", with the idea of omnipresence ("Everywhere and nowhere") having kicked off a tangential discussion. Typically the Lewis Carol novels are considered a dream, or a bout with hallucination/madness etc, though others consider Alice's journey a trip to Arcadia, the land of dreams and where the Fae live in many beliefs and folklores. So wouldn't then, a Cheshire Cat be of the fae regardless of interpretation? 
> 
> So what we came to sort of agree on for head cannon, was since Herr Doctor created Schrodinger [some-freaking-how], he used maybe vampire and fae blood (since most experiments also had some element of Alucard via Mina Harker)... which produced whateverthefuxit Schrodinger was. Ergo, there would be Fae. Perhaps disinterested in a world from growing technology and order, who love more madness and chaos of the dream realm or mental planes of the sleeping mortals, or live alongside and just hide better than other supernaturals. I dunno yet. But. It's not that far of a stretch to my mind as we only saw a very specific corner of The World in Hellsing. 
> 
> This note has gone on super long, but I think maybe a touch necessary. I hope you enjoy, and stick with me - It's gonna be a crazy ride.


	5. The Black Luna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**"The Son then asks, Father, which of these is more worthy than the other; whether is it the heaven or the earth? Hermes replies, Both need the help one of the other..."** ~The Golden Tractate of Hermes Trismegistus_
> 
> After the attack on the Director of the Hellsing Organization, the Druidess Moira Reid understands that the time frame for their plans must be moved up despite her colleagues' questioning.

“You have killed us,” Hawthorne said from ahead of them. He carved the path of the In Between, headed for the closest, most familiar gate to him. 

“I’ve bought us time,” Moira insisted, looking at the crushed silver, blessed bullet that had been fired into and then ejected from her head when healing. “There was no way Hellsing woulda let us do our we’rk. They are more on the side of angels than the Vatican ever has been.”

“And yet you have angered the Devil they employ,” the Fae sneered. 

“He ist not wrong,” Selber chuckled in his German accent. The Werwolf was still buried in his phone, not paying attention around them. Modern children were perplexing to Moira, she thought, shaking her head. 

The In Between around them was like an oddly moving reflection of the world, some places in greyscale of the real world reflection, others fairly normal looking, and then like the fair in the distance, neon and glowing brightly. This was the place where only the Fae and their chosen tread, where the Trods, roads to Arcadia, lay. Looking up, Moira watched a few mortal souls crossing bridges overhead. It was daytime here, less people were sleeping, but a few made their journeys to and from the Realm of Dreams; Acradia and kingdom of the Old Fae.

“Wrong er not, we must we’rk quickly. It will only take a few days for Integral Hellsing to be turned. Therefore we must to Rome once more. Tis time to move the plan up.”

“How do you know he’ll turn her?” 

“How one knows the sun will rise t’morrow. How I know that my beloved husband is still alive, and in need of my rescue. Faith. Love. I’m surprised ye didn’t pick up on that, Hawthorne.”

“Nightmares is my court, Lady Moira,” Hawthorne rumbled. “I felt their fear, not their love.”

“And why did he fear losing her so sharply?”

The Fae thought about it a moment, shuddering to relieve the memory even distractedly as he guided. “Point taken.”

“So vat,” Selber chortled, “Now ve’re going to habe drei? Three pissed off vampires of the King’s Line after us?”

Moira was quiet, lips pressed together in a thin line as her eyes maintained straight ahead. “When we recruited ye, Selber, we said t'would be dangerous, and everyone might not make it out o’this alive.”

“From ze Vatican!” the young werewolf argued. “Not ze Hellzing Organization that will fucking end the fuck out of us for the  _ right _ reazonz, rendering your perzonel crusade mute.”

“Which is why,” Moira sighed, “We need to now move quickly.”

At this, Hawthorne reached out and thrust his hands into the fabric of the realm and peeled it back like a curtain. A normal, grassy, if overcast field of The Real World could be seen beyond, and Moira did not hesitate to step through, Selber behind her and Hawthorne last, closing the portal.

Stonehenge was beautiful anytime of day, any weather to Moira. The regal and tall stones that still stood marked a more magical time when she'd been truly happy. The other monuments had not lasted the same way, and modern people were only just scraping the surface of those discoveries. But the stones here were old. Older than she. Her welcome, old friends. Walking to the center of the circle, she raised her hands. The tourism was closed down for the day this late in the afternoon and for weather, so she would be able to do this unhindered. It would hurt - she had no relics, and magic was not as prevalent as it had once been in the world. But it would get them there. 

“Vhy can’t vee just take ze In Betveen?” Selber asked, having pulled up his hood and trying to shield his phone screen from the rain. 

“The Channel is not the same in the In Between,” Hawthorne sighed, fairly certain he’d already explained this to the insolent little werewolf. “The nightmare sea cannot be crossed easily or quickly. You would likely not survive it.”

“‘Kay.” Selber’s dismissive acknowledgement drew a sneer from the Fae, but the wind was swirling around them now. Electricity danced in the building vortex, from Moira’s hands and eyes to the spell she wove around them. When the clouds above became affected by it, Selber actually looked up nervously. 

With a flash and a deafening crack, Lightning struck the center of the stones and the three companions, and through the storm they were transported. At the speed of literal lightning, and another crack that left their ears ringing, they landed in the center of the Ancient Colosseum in Rome - also closed for the day and for weather. 

“Jeezuz Krist fraulein,” Selber yelped, patting his jacket sleeve that was smoking, and he was making sure it wasn’t on fire. “Varn a body…”

“Come, we’ve got a lot te do, gentlemen,” she said and started walking for a nearby exit. 

“Just one question, Reid,” Hawthorne said cautiously, in that fae-being-trixie voice she’d come to know meant she was about to have to be  _ very _ careful with her words. Moira stopped and turned to look at him in mild annoyance. “Anderson. The No Life King mentioned. Explain.”

“Nothin’ te explain that haszn’t already been said,” she said sharply. “He was a descendant, and of the Iscariot. He is dead.”

“Ohhhhh,” Hawthorne rumbled in darkly upsetting interest and flickered in her vision, only to reappear right in front of her, “But there is so much more. Regret. Fear. Anger. Hatred. Those are the things I feel from you at his name.”

“He’s probably her great-great-grandsohn oder etwas,” Selber snorted in disinterest.

But Hawthorne’s breath caught at the microreaction in Moira’s eyes. “Ohhhhhhh, you’re not so wrong as you might think, pup. Explain, or we go no further. I have the rest of time to take my revenge, witch. Another opportunity will arise.”

The Druidess’s eyes narrowed. “He was my gran’son. His parents were killed by hunters when in Ireland and the church… conflicts were escalatin’. The Vatican added insult to injury to my line that day. After all they had done to my people, they killed my son, his beloved, and then took their child to raise within the church. I had hoped to save him… but fate did not see fit to allow this. He was a believer in their God, and those Millenium swine forced his hand. Now, I will just avenge him, his parents, and at the side of my husband… or avenge him too.”

Hawthorne, getting more than he’d bargained for, narrowed his eyes. “We are speaking of the man that was on parr, toe to toe with the nearly Biblical monster you have just created a new enemt of by shooting it's master. Be. Clear. Woman. Church conflicts is vague and could be a few things in Ireland-”

“1560. Can we  _ please _ move on. We are now on a timer as you keep reminding, and I am runnin’ out o’patience.”

Sharing a glance, Selber actually having listened to the last, shrugged and began following past Hawthorne. “Our reazonz are similar,” the werewolf said. “Ze church killed my parentz in ze Battle of London. I vill kill ze Church for zat.”

“Yes, but you haven’t had five hundred years to plan, or be angry,” Hawthorne mumbled as he too now followed, thinking that perhaps he was done questioning Moira. Her motives were not only similar, but just as aged as his were. That made her very, very dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, I know. But I didn't want to tuck this in at the beginning of the next chapter, I wanted it to stand alone.
> 
> But I'm going to post them as close to each other as possible, cause I hate when this $#it happens to me. Yeah, sure, it makes the reader chompy for your material, but... like seriously I hate it so I'm not gonna do it to you guys.
> 
> (シ_ _)シ Sorry for even briefly. 
> 
> Also, I am still sick as dog $#it. I will probably have the next chapter out later today. Muse willing.


	6. The Black Sol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mortally wounded, Integra must make her choice.

> _**The Serpent of Arabia is my name**  _   
>  _**The which is leader of all this game**  _   
>  _**That sometime was both wood and wild**  _   
>  _**And now I am both meek and mild**  _   
>  _**The Sun and the Moon with their might**  _   
>  _**Have chastised me that was so light**  _   
>  _**My wings that me brought**  _   
>  _**Hither and thither where I thought**  _   
>  _**Now with their might they down me pull,**  _   
>  _**And bring me where they will**  _   
>  _**The Blood of mine heart I wish**  _   
>  _**Now causeth both joy and blisse**  _   
>  _**And dissolveth the very Stone**  _   
>  _**And knitteth him ere he have done**  _   
>  _~The Ripley Scroll_

 

Alucard was only peripherally aware of the noises Seras was making outside the door. He would apologize later (maybe), but just now it was nothing he cared about. What he cared about was dying in his arms. Panic was not an emotion to which the Vampire King was accustom. There were a kaleidoscope of feelings he cycled through fairly regularly- despite having been back from his mental realm for only a day now, he’d still been himself for thirty years. Not once in that time had panic ever entered him.

But now, he was having to fight to not panic.

Laying her down on the bed gently, and shrugging away his hat and coat, he lay the Casull on her nightstand just in case anyone got any ideas. Discarding the jacket from around her shoulders, he took one of her pillows and instructed her to apply pressure over her stomach. This was not time to call an ambulance - they would not arrive in time. This was time for her to make a choice. However he needed her to not bleed out before she could make it.

“Master,” he said softly coming to sit on the bed and support her, turning her face up to him where it lolled on his shoulder. Blue eyes swimming she tried to focus on him, but her gaze was reeling. _Integra,_ he said to her mind, holding back that in this time, the scent of her blood still aroused his hunger and lust. She was dying. Lust later…

 _You’re going to ask me to be your queen, right?_   He heard her voice, weak and tired in his mind. _That now is the time?_

 _Yes, my sweet master,_ he responded, and kissed her forehead. _Now is the time._

She was quiet a moment, trying to shield her thoughts from him, so he let her but kept an eye on her face to make sure she didn’t pass out. “I said to you once that I didn’t know if I would or not,” she stated, her voice thick and weak, but out loud. She was human, and she would act like it for she was either about to not be, or be dead. “You were so pleased it was not a no.”

“I was,” he purred. “But as much as those memories thrill and make me shudder, Countess, we do not have the time for them now. You must choose.”

“Alucard,” she whispered and looked up to him, every day of her 53 years weighing in her eyes. “Answer me honestly - ignoring that I am an old lady now… Do you love me, Count? For all our years, together and apart-”

He silenced her with a kiss, chaste, but passionate against her warm lips that grew colder by the moment. “I have loved you from the moment I saw you in that dark, stone dungeon,” he admitted against her lips, red eyes glowing as he looked over her face. “It was a different love then. Fiercely possessive. Protective. Platonic, but affectionate. Then… you became the woman that would one day be my equal. Beautiful, intelligent, ruthless. Sunlight, ice and steel.” His eyes were starting to water with blood tears. “Your eighteenth birthday. The night of the assassination attempt. That was the night it became the love you mean. That is why I want you to say yes, Countess. Say yes, and become my Queen, my equal. For without his Queen, the King is nothing.”

Integra, feeling her body chill under massive blood loss, and seeing the edges of her vision go dark, nodded and whispered, “Yes. One day is not enough.”

“One lifetime has not been enough,” he rumbled, turning her face gently away from him. “Say it.”

“Dammit, Alucard,” she groaned softly as her will to stay awake was fading.

“No games, Countess. I just want to hear the words.” The last was said, lips against her neck.

“Bite me, dammit. Make me your Queen. We’re out of time.”

She felt him smile in spite of his slowing tears. “Is that an order, or a request, my master?”

“ _Both,_ ” she said emphatically, before the blackness consumed her.

 

***

Integra wasn’t sure how it went for normal embraces, but she did recall that Seras had had some sort of “experience” during Alucard’s draining of her blood, and then subsequent change. Perhaps it was because she had been so close to the brink, or some other reason, but she had no such experience. She did however wake up smelling gunpowder, blood and tasting… kiwi? That was important. Or it would be later. But she had no idea why.

Eyes fluttering open, it look her a moment to realize that she was seeing out of both eyes.

Oh. That’s right. The Druid who didn’t want war, but couldn’t promise not killing innocents had healed her. And then killed her. Staring at the canopy of her own bed, she smelled the dirt under the mattress. No doubt Seras or Alucard had done so so that she could wake in her own bed. Dear lord, there were so many little threads in the material of her canopy… and she wasn’t wearing her glasses! It was so pretty and blue, and she could see the hints of greystone between the thread count, and the smells were intoxicating and she was hungry, and there was another smell that she would have to figure out as it thrilled her and warmed places deep in her belly… but she’d been thinking about something… what was it? Someone?

Druidess. That’s right, she’d said, “Just need to keep you busy…” Had she known? Known what Alucard would offer and Integra would accept? Certainly not, not even Integra had until that moment. Though… if she were honest she sort of _had_ known.

Oh sweet God, where was her phone? Mirrors were useless now, but she had to be prepared, had to know if she was an old woman for eternity before she sought out Alucard. She wasn’t typically vain but… eternity was a very long time to be an old woman.

Reaching for her phone on the beside, her hand brushed a blood pack from the reserves downstairs, and she realized a list of things all at once.

The blood pack was most of the blood she smelled.

There was no blood on her bed, pillows or duvet.

She was wearing the only sexy, satin nightgown she owned. Because of course she was - either Seras or Alucard were to thank for that, and either were equally as likely.

Her phone was there, but she had to eat… err, well, drink something first.

So, grabbing the blood bag and her phone in one go, one bag resolved to actually be two. Popping the end off like a straw, she downed both bags and felt a bit better as she flipped through her phone apps and debated, hovering over the camera app until she was finally annoyed with her own cowardice and just opened the damn thing.

With the reverse camera on, Integra’s jaw dropped. While she was not back to looking Seras’s age, or even her own when she and Seras had met, the years had been wiped away from her face like so much makeup. Wrinkles and slight sagging gone, Integra could have been early thirties again easily.

“Alright, Walter,” she said with a sigh to the empty room. “I don’t forgive you… but I understand now.”

Both eyes back, time turned back, and despite the ache of still being hungry, and being aware that she was very much now dead… Integra was surprisingly fine with it. She’d be dead either way. At least this way she could carry on her work, even if she had to operate now in secret. It would take some time to find where her faith nestled into the new life, where she landed on God, and where God might land on her. There was something comforting in the consideration that while most of them were terrible people in the Iscariot, Anderson had been enhanced, a freak, even becoming a monster in the end while remaining devoutly in service to God. Integra hoped that she would find a similar peace. And she would be able to keep up with Seras and Pip finally, which eased all other thoughts. But most of all, she now had all the lifetimes in the world to finally spend with her beloved Count.

No, her King.

The thought brought a wide smile to her face as she turned her camera off and dropped her phone to the bed, feeling more alive than she had in 13 years or more. But that brought her back to the smell. There was blood elsewhere in the room, the smell was tied _to_  that but it was _not_ the blood she smelled. Not solely. Leaning down on hands and knees, she ignored the ride up of the black lingerie she wore. The Smell was on the bed, though faded. Off the otherside she followed it and around the foot over to the window. Blood, a hint of black powder, and something else, something primal, musky but sweet like the things that made men’s cologne enticing…

The shadows of the corner of her room had substance and she grinned a moment before taking a handful of his shirt, pulling him into the moonlight, and against her. She felt her fangs press her bottom lip as Alucard looked down to her with an amused smile, his un-gloved, bare hands coming to rest in the small of her back. Hers automatically wrapped around his neck and he began to sway with her, to a music that was not playing, but they both felt.

“That was very good,” he purred, leaning down to brush his nose to hers.

“You smell delicious.” Her smile was wide, cheek rubbing against his shoulder like an affectionate cat.

His eyes lit up to see this, the inner glow intensifying. “My Queen, how your compliments stir my heart.”

“When her King is so enticing and seductive and he had done nothing but challenge her to find him… how can I not be?”

Alucard stopped and turned Integra’s face up to him, observing her lovingly in the moonlight. “The fire in your eyes has returned, beloved.”

“Because I had given up on this, on our eternity… but you saved it for me anyway.” Hands running up the back of his neck into his hair, she wanted a kiss. A proper, lover’s kiss. And more… after all he wasn’t the only one who’d saved something all these years.

Alucard’s head fell back with laughter, an amused sound that echoed off the stone walls as he scooped her up into his arms and headed back for the bed. He’d been following her thoughts. He couldn’t resist, and he’d been rewarded. Shedding clothes like mist with each step, he was in naught but underthings by the time he was laying next to her. “I suppose the best things are worth waiting for. Fighting for,” he said with a conceited smile.

“Dying for,” she rumbled and with hands gripped in his hair, pulled him down into a deep kiss. Immediately she nicked his tongue with her fangs and tasted him fully, blood, kiss and all. He waited no time to return the gesture. His groan of deep, male satisfaction at this send goosebumps chasing over her body. Arching her back up into him, she was impatient. She’d waited so long…

 _The night is young, my Queen_ , he said to her mind. _I intend to take our time._

 _I, do not,_ she stated firmly. Reaching between them, she ran her hand over the thin cotton that separated her from his desire, and smiled when he shuddered. _I have waited my entire sexually mature life for this very moment, and while there is time for taking our time later, just now, I want. You. Dammit._

Alucard grinned, and rest his weight over her, his desire pressed against hers through their clothes and teasing her on purpose, as well as pinning her hand useless. “Ask,” he said with a wide grin, leaning down to pepper kisses over her collar bone. “You are my queen, my equal-”

“Your maser no more,” she purred, burying her face into his hair and taking in his scent with reverence. He smelled the same, just so much _more_ like himself. Hair softer now that she could feel every strand. His skin, for the first time, was warmer that hers, as he had fed on live blood more recently. She reveled in that - it was such a commodity. He’d been cooler then she was her entire life with him. Now to have him be noticeably warmer? Her free hand rubbed over his skin, her legs coming up to cradle his hips, and touch as much of him as she could. He rumbled at this change, and she felt from him that he had changed her clothes, having chosen this night gown deliberately… also knowing she wore nothing beneath.

Integra smiled, and resumed her caressing of his need best she could, her lover shuddering and making a pitiful sound of yearning. “What should I ask?” she purred against his ear. She burned for him, skin aching for his touch, for the promise of what was going to follow this torment.

“What is your fondest desire, Countess?” he rumbled, but she could feel his will unraveling around the edges.

With a breathy sigh, purely feminine in nature and surprising herself that it had come from her, she pressed her hips up into her hand and his groin, whispering, “Make love to me, goddammit. I have been patient long enough.”

Alucard’s chuckle was deep, and immodest but before Integra could ask what was so funny, she realized all his clothes were now gone. The skin to skin contact stole her breath and words, and he took the advantageous moment to claim both her hands above her head, and reached between them to slip fingers into her waiting warmth.

Eager, even hungry for his affections, Integra’s hips moved with her impatience. Leaning up and replacing her hands in his hair, she pulled him down into a greedy kiss once more. Alucard did not resist. He wasn’t certain he could have, had he the inclination, but he also lacked the inclination. How she danced in desire beneath him, how sweet her abandon and surrender. After the fear, the panic of having the choice forced upon her so rapidly, her open arms in intimacy and covetous actions were a balm to the tattered patches of his soul.

Oh yes, eternity was now complete.

Her legs wrapping his hips, Alucard found that her impatience was infectious. He ached for the culmination of decades spent waiting, wanting… needing. Feeling that her body was more than ready for him, Alucard noted his muscles trembled in anticipation. His angel, once of sunlight, ice, and steel, now moonlight, sex and iron begged for the release that only he could give her.

Moving his hand, he pressed his sex to hers, teasing her just a bit as he had so many times before. But this time was different. The intent was not to impress control, or to draw her out, but instead to prime her, to drive her anticipation to the heights of ravenous craving. Her hips twisted beneath him, trying to position herself to accept his most carnal of gifts. It was no hardship for him to grant her wish.

With one smooth, powerful movement, he thrust within her and groaned into their kiss. Everything that he was, body, mind, and soul were alight with the perfection that was this moment. He held himself, as deeply as he could be like that, to savor the sensation and her reactions. He felt her mind a flurry with emotions, pleasure, relief… those same decades of repressed urges and desires shattered like brittle glass, swept away in the wind of consummation.

In this moment of pause, he also felt something else. Something rich, and darkly clung to in her soul bursting forth as she could no longer ignore or restrain it within her mind.

Love.

Pure, genuine love. Aged to perfection like the finest wine, it was not a new truth from within her, but it was one she’d had to ignore, pretend it wasn’t there to maintain her integrity in life. That was no longer a concern, and here in the penultimate expression of devotion she could share with him, she loosed those chains from herself and let it consume her.

She also was done waiting on his relish of the moment, it seemed. Alucard found himself being rolled to his back as Integra positioned herself astride his hips and took him within her once more. Now, it was her turn to groan. Letting her head fall back as her hips resumed their gyrations, she rest her hands on his stomach for balance. He watched, eyes glowing like embers in the darkness, as his moonlight angel danced above him, giving him the last of her virtue with wild abandon.

At one time, it would have been a bittersweet moment, this. The creature of light and humanity corrupted by his influence, his touch, her purity forever extinguished by his darkness. That time had long passed, though. Thirty years fighting to return to her had made him realize that she was his purpose now. Only to finally succeed and find the light in her eyes gone out, to worry that she was right and he was too late… then to watching her dying.

No. Purity was overrated. Whatever he had to do to keep her by his side and never again live without or watch her suffer or die. That, that is what he would do. If that meant bringing her to darkness and changing her light from white to red… then so be it. He would never regret his actions. Especially not when she was doing _that_ . Whatever _that_ had been, a twist of her hips pulling his attention back to her face to find a confident and nearly cruel smile as she managed to render him thoughtless a moment… that alone was worth it.

She bent down, hips rising and falling once more over him as she drew out the movements, his hips rising to meet her downward thrusts. Integra, blue eyes shining in the moonlight, crawled up until her white hair curtained around them and she smiled. “It was worth the wait,” she whispered, brushing her lips over his. “But we have many years to make up for, my Count.”

Her father and great-grandfather were likely rolling in their graves. There was a sadistic joy in that knowledge for him, but it was not the main inspiration of the too wide smile he wore under her kiss. “Do your worst, Countess,” he purred, “But do it now, before I take you as I have fantasized for long enough you might actually blush.”

Sitting up astride him again, she smirked and pulled her lingerie off over her head. With hands on his wrists, she moved his hands to cup her breasts as she resumed riding his hips. Oh this was everything, Alucard smiled. It had been so long. Too long since they’d indulged and never in this delightfully torturous way. By her own actions, he felt her first climax restrict around him and went cross eyed at the sensation, not long after she’d taken to this new endeavor. But he’d taught her long ago that one such pleasure was not the end. A switch flipped within him, seeing her find her first pleasure with him inside. The time for love making was over.

As she moaned his name in her euphoria, he took the momentary lapse of her attention to sit up beneath her, wrap arms about her waist, and continue their game. There was nothing gentle in his movements, no longer luxuriating in their intimacy. No, this was raw, primal, immediate. Face buried between her breasts as she gripped his shoulders, his fangs elongated and pierced her flesh before he could quite stop himself. Immediately her mind flooded his, and she was just as awestruck as he felt, just as hungry and raw. Never in her life had she dreamed that such pleasures could be. Hoped? Certainly. Believed? Not until now.

Rolling her down to the bed, the change in position brought her to orgasm once more, and it was all Alucard could take. Suckling her sweet blood at her breast, and feeling the slick saturation of her pleasure around him, with a few powerful thrusts he was undone within her. Moans muffled against her perfect, soft skin, Alucard felt her legs wrap his waist and hold him there, as her arms held him against her chest. Panting, though it seemed more out of habit than need, Integra pressed her lips to his hair in the afterglow of this magical event. “Well. I hope that means I did not disappoint-”

Releasing her skin from his lips, he silenced her with a passionate kiss, even as a manic giggle built in his chest. Disappoint? Surely she was mad.

 _All of the torments, hells, deaths, pains… the purgatory of mistakes, sins and torture of my life and unlife that have led to this moment… are worth every bloodied second, and I would do it all over again to land here, where we are right now._ His voice in her mind was frantic, but also deeply pleased and genuine. _Nothing, noone in this God forsaken world now, or in ages past, has been more perfect, more worth every sufferance, than you are to me my No Life Queen._

He felt her wide smile into their kiss, heart filling with her newly acknowledge love. _When did you become so poetic?_

Returning her smile, and licking the remnants of his own blood from her chin, he moved his rapidly softening sex within her a little. _I’d say for years, but I’ve been recently reinspired._

She shuddered at the pleasure of feeling him, but laughed aloud. It was a pure and genuine sound the likes of which Alucard nor Hellsing manor had heard in decades. “Well I shall endeavor to inspire you to poetry often, I think. However…”

“Yes. Even when she is silent, she is loud,” Alucard sighed and collapsed like a ragdoll atop his lover, pinning her to the bed. His other childe, Seras, was all but vibrating where she paced downstairs, knowing that tonight was the night Integra was to wake. “I’m not ready to share you, yet.”

“Nor I feeling entirely ready to be shared,” Integra sighed. “But to make her wait longer seems cruel. After all-”

“She wasn’t the one who abandoned you?” he asked.

Hearing his neutral tone, Integra raised an eyebrow and looked down to where his face was tucked against her neck. If she didn’t know any better she’d have thought him actually stung by Seras’s words the other night. But, there was a first time for everything, as tonight had proven many times.

“I was going to say she has been my only companion for more years than I care to admit, my best of friends. I’d like to not keep her waiting much longer than necessary.”

Alucard sighed dramatically.

Integra just smiled. She’d won, and she knew it. They were equals now, no longer master and servant. However, as she gleaned things from him more and more over their shared bond, she could feel that her King would be accommodating of her wishes… likely more often than not.

“Come, my beloved King,” she said and kissed his temple. “We will ease our darling Seras, I will learn of what has transpired over the last three days, and then I need something more to eat. Once those things are accomplished, then I am yours until sunrise.”

With a wide smirk, Alucard turned his face, hair obscuring all but one eye that glowed with mirth. “Speed run?”

“Speed run?” Integra frowned, not following.

“Like the game players on YouTube. How quickly can we accomplish those things, perhaps set a speed record.”

“My God when did you discover YouTube?”

“...It’s been a long three days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kiwis. My plans involve kiwis. I promise there is at least 12% of a plan, as previously mentioned. 
> 
> So yes. Here we are. This is not, clearly, the end. I hope despite the momentary "Oh thanks goodness" knowing full well this is what most fics will hold out on until near the end to keep us all reading (myself included), that you will stick with me for more shenanigans. 
> 
> Thank yo for reading thus far and for all the comments! You guys are wonderful and make this an additional layer of fun! <3  
> ƪ(˘⌣˘)┐ ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ ┌(˘⌣˘)ʃ


	7. A Holy War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After her embrace and transition, Integra catches up on the news over the three days she's missed to discover the havok being wreaked in Rome. That, and the Convention and King summon her - they know what fate has befallen the Director if the Hellsing Organization. Now all that remains will be the fate of the Organization itself.

Integra stared at the television, arms crossed and sitting into one hip as she took in the images before her. Seras was still vibrating in her peripheral vision, her friend’s relief and excitement to have Integra not only still walking around but “on the team” as the once police woman had stated was tangible. She’d only just gotten the younger woman to stop hugging her long enough to watch the news. 

The attacks on the Vatican had started the night Integra had died. 

Phone in hand, she was already calling Makube.

Alucard stood at her shoulder, utterly disinterested and watching something on the phone Seras had acquired for him in the last few days. She could feel his lack of care over the fate of the Iscariot, or their attackers as there was no doubt in any present mind, including Captain Bernadotte, who was reaping havoc in Rome.

The other end of the call picked up, Makube’s voice a touch strained as he said, “Your timing is a tad off.”

“Being shot by the people currently ruining your life can have that effect,” she answered coolly.

Makube was silent a moment. “I see. I am hoping with such an intimate experience you can shed some light?”

“An ancient Druid, slighted by the church over a thousand years ago, a true Fae and a Werewolf leftover from Millennium. Is this where I wish you best of luck and carry on about my business?”

“The… Druids…” Makube had the decency to sound genuinely shocked. “ _ Mio Dio _ , surely not…”

“She’s a regenerator. I would wager the bullet Alucard put between her eyes three days ago did little more than give her a headache. It seems… Anderson was a descendant of hers.”

“Spoiling all the surprises is no fun,” Alucard rumbled next to her where he was entrenched in some brightly colored candy themed game on his phone now.

“This… is news to me,” Makube rumbled unhappily. “I have never known anyone to know anything about Anderson’s origin. He had… just always been there. Always been head of his orphanage, always been the secret weapon of Section XIII.”

Integra snorted. “It seems likely to me that no one knew because those who once did had since died, and Anderson never shared, or he himself never knew. I also highly doubt that the Druid will sit down and share the story over tea. She was rather… dedicated to her crusade.”

“There are women and children here,” Makube said, the edge of pleading to his voice. 

“I am aware. She shot me because I refused to let her wage her war uninterrupted if she could not guarantee me the lives of innocents would be spared. She could not, and now here we are.”

As if something had just occurred to him, Makube was quite. “She shot you.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“To waylay Hellsing’s involvement. You see this is the first chance I have had to call.”

He wanted to ask. She could feel over the phone he was already making assumptions, likely correct ones. Well. At least the Convention of Twelve had already been informed. It seemed when those knights of the round had come for their weekly training, they had cornered Seras for information, and she had been honest. It grated that Integra had not been able to inform them herself, but one had little control over such affairs while technically, legally dead. The matter was being taken before the King, and she expected a summons at any time to decide the fate of the Hellsing Organization as it stood. 

And yet she smiled at the idea of the Iscariot weighing the decision to ask for aid from the transformed enemy, or clutch their ideals to the death of their own organization.

“How soon can you be here?” Makube asked, finally. 

“How Long can you hold them at bay?”

He grunted. “Many lives have already been lost, but our vaults house many of the innocents, and the Pope. The attackers are currently entangled with the mortal authorities, and with your additional information, we should be able to reinforce the old wards against their… magicks.”

“I need to speak with the King. Hopefully no more than twenty-four hours. However, I may be coming as a personal favor, and not as an official of the British government.” She raised an eyebrow at Seras’s gasp, as if the draculina had not considered that this could happen until now. “Of course, official or not, I have a personal vendetta to see to with these people. So, we will be there hell or high water.”

“I see,” Makube said in disdain. Yes, he’d put the pieces together. Ah well, he’d never really liked her anyway. This was not a loss she would mourn. “Please keep me informed. I am not certain how long our generators and cell repeaters down here in the catacomb will hold out. But hopefully at least twenty-four hours.”

“Personal issues aside, Chief Makube,” she said sincerely, “Godspeed. You are all that stands between those people and the darkness that would end them. I wish you luck, and hope that your faith perseveres in this trial.”

He was silent a moment, but she heard him sigh. “Thank you, Sir Hellsing. Personal issues aside, I hope that I will see you soon. God has not historically had the manifest hand these people need right now.”

Repressing a smile to keep it from her voice, Integra managed to only smirk. “Survive.” It was the last thing she said before ending the call. 

“We’re… not really going to help them, are we?” Seras pouted. “The Iscariot? Really?”

“We are not doing anything for the reason of helping the Iscariot,” Integra said, eyes glued still to the fires and police state of the Vatican on the screen in front of her, where an unseen force taking out police officers was likely the young werewolf, if she had her guess. “We are going to lend aid to forces that seek to preserve innocent lives, as we are the only ones equipped to aid.”

“ _ Are we? _ ” Pip asked, manifesting next to Seras with crossed arms. This actually made Alucard look up from his phone. He’d apparently not seen this phenomenon since his return. “ _ Je suis désolé, but I have not the first clue how to fight the Fae. Especially ones who can disparaître at will. _ ”

“Iron. Bullets, cages, shackles,” Alucard said, looking Bernadotte up and down.

“I thought it was cold iron?” Seras asked. “What’s the difference?”

“Poetry,” Integra snorted. “Literally nothing in reality. Like saying the “cold steel of my blade”, “cold” iron is just iron.”

“So iron bullets and blessed silver for the werewolf… but what about Moira?” Seras winced to even say her name.

“Persistence,” Alucard smiled widely. “If I can give you the killing blow, my Queen, I shall.”

But Integra wasn’t so certain. Her intuition had been trying to tell her something, something new since she’d been watching the television. Clearly from the beginning of all this, a part of her soul knew the time of her death was near. But that had past, and she now had a new life, and new senses, powers… this new intuition was again putting the taste of kiwi in her mouth. Frowning, she was no longer seeing the television or hearing Seras talk about werewolf fighting strategies, and pointedly ignored Alucard staring at her. When was the last time she’d had kiwis? 

She’d been a child. Someone had brought a pie with kiwis on it to her mother’s wake. The taste had made her smile. Her father had kept them on hand until his death, and after his service, Walter had brought her some. Then every year on the anniversary of her father’s death, Walter had left kiwis skinned and sliced on her office desk for breakfast. But she’d not had them since, more than thirty years ago now.

Narrowing her eyes, she was missing a large piece of this puzzle.

_ I am currently unable to decipher your thoughts _ , Alucard’s voice purred in her mind.  _ I don’t know if you’ve gotten that good at misdirection or that your thoughts are not making a lot of sense right now. Walter and kiwis? _

_ I don’t know yet, _ she answered, not entirely focused on the question.

But before they could continue, her phone went off. Looking to see Gregory Penwood’s number, she answered on the second ring. “Good evening, Sir Penwood.”

“G-good evening, Sir Hellsing. How… are you?”

Integra rolled her eyes to look to the ceiling. He was not the most glib of compatriots. “Better than I was a few days ago. What can I do for you?”

“The King is available this evening, and is hoping you can join the Council for a meeting with him to discuss… everything.”

Looking at her watch, Integra noted the hour. “What time?”

“An hour hence.”

“We will be there punctually.”

“We?”

Integra sighed. “Yes, Gregory,  _ we _ . The ‘everything’ being discussed is no doubt the future of the Hellsing Organization. I feel that Alucard and Seras deserve to know as well. It’s not as if they've never accompanied me before.”

“O-of course, sir,” Penwood stuttered. “We will see you then.”

“Godspeed,” she said and ended the call. Looking to Alucard she inclined her head. “Well, let us get ready to meet the Council. It seems there is no rest for the wicked.”

“The wicked?” he asked in amusement, turning to follow her as she headed for the stairs. “Are we now the wicked?”

“ _ You _ have always been the wicked,” she mumbled with a raised eyebrow. “Depending on how this meeting goes, and what results our trip to Rome render, my fate is yet to be seen.”

“I’m not wicked!” Seras protested as she skipped to catch up with them, Pip un-manifesting to follow faster. 

“ _ In or out of the sheets, ma cherie? _ ” his disembodied voice teased. 

“Oh  _ you  _ hush!  _ You are _ wicked, Captain.”

“ _ Guilty as charged. _ ”

“Please be on better behavior, the lot of you,” Integra admonished as she entered her bedroom and left the door open, expecting they would all follow whether she wanted them to or not. “We are about to meet with the King. Do try and pretend that you have manners.”

As Integra disappeared into her closet to change out of her bathrobe, Alucard smiled. “Charles or William?”

“William,” Seras sighed with a smile. “He’s right kind and clever as he is handsome.”

“ _ And bald _ ,” Pip’s salty tone echoed around them.

“Rude!”

“What happened to Charles?” Alucard asked evenly, saving his amusement, for if Integra remembered something before he had to remind her.

“He died of a heart attack a few years ago. Sad really. He was nice,” Seras shrugged. “Not the brightest color in a box of crayons, but nice.”

When Alucard glanced back to the closet from where he’d given Seras a moment of his attention, he saw Integra pointing a gun at him, her nude arm and shoulder beneath a cold glare telling him she remembered. “Not another word, Count. I  _ will _ shoot you.”

Alucard’s grin curled widely as he slowly sauntered across the room, remembering his little prank from when she was 15, and locking her out of her own computer with obnoxious images of the now king and his brother. “It would not be the first time.”

“Nor likely the last. Now please, go about making yourself presentable.” Disappearing back into the closet, she cleared her throat. “You as well, Seras.”

“Sir yes sir!” the draculina responded and darted of to change from jeans and t-shirt into her proper Hellsing Uniform.

“Am I ever truly presentable?” Alucard asked her, his chuckle deeply amused and perhaps a hair too loud.

“You can be,” Integra sighed, dressing and reappeared fast as she could. She watched as Alucard’s grin widened to see her, eyes flashing with a number of impressions and emotions, not many of which were polite. She had chosen a suit, but unlike her normal selections especially for Council meetings, this was clearly cut for a woman. It was black, double breasted as was her preferred style, over a white dress shirt and red tie. Tugging on her white gloves, she pursed her lips against a smirk. “Yes?”

“Is this to show the Council a change, or for me?” Alucard purred, reaching out to tuck her hair behind one ear. 

Feeling light, and fizzy, and well… more free than she had her entire life as his touch tingled over her skin, she remembered a time when she’d clung to propriety and what was expected of her as her only bastion against the storm of thoughts, feelings and emotions that stirred within her, especially as pertained to Alucard. Now? She didn’t bother to repress them. There was no need; she’d made her choice, and the statement therein was clear. “This, Count, is entirely for you.”

Buttoning her gloves, when she looked back he had changed his appearance. He too wore a black suit, with white gloves. His shirt was red with a black tie, and while she was fairly certain she’d seen this ensemble before, he wore his hair normally, long in front and short in back, with his red lense glasses already on. 

“And this?” she asked coyly with hands in her pants pockets, stepping in to invade his personal space, resting her shoulder to his chest as if just pausing as she walked by. 

“Is for my Queen,” he rumbled and took her chin between his thumb and finger, holding her still a moment to steal a kiss. After his lips lingered a moment, his eyes searched hers in seriousness. “Why Rome?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

“It’s not our Jurisdiction.”

“We may not soon have Jurisdiction.”

He inclined his head in an affirmative. “All the more reason your promise of aid confuses me.”

Integra pursed her lips and looked past his shoulder but did not move. “This was my fate, Alucard. I’ve known it for years. It was why I mourned so very deeply when I lost hope. You knew it long before I did.” She felt him radiate agreement with her, but one eyebrow raised, knowing she was not done. When she turned back to look at him again, her eyes were cold. “That does not mean that I will allow her transgression to go unanswered. This is personal, just as I said to Makube. Jurisdiction or no, she shot me. She no longer gets to have her vengeance.”

Alucard just smiled and reached out an arm around her waist, pulling her against his chest. “Then I follow where you lead, my Queen.”

“Ready when you are!” Seras called from downstairs. 

Integra sighed. “I’m going to need to hire help around here, aren't I?” she sighed. "Now that we are all going to be down during the day for the most part.”

“What brought this on?” he asked, tucking her arm in his as they walked for the door. 

“The fact that I couldn’t ask Poppy or Walter to smack Seras for shrieking like an American from downstairs, when she perfectly well knows she can use telepathy to achieve the same damn ends.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A peek into Kiwis. ヽ(⌐■_■)ノ♪♬
> 
> Taken from the wikipedia article on "Iron in folklore";  
>  _Cold iron is a poetic term for iron. Francis Grose's 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue defines cold iron as "A sword, or any other weapon for cutting or stabbing." This usage often appears as "cold steel" in modern parlance._
> 
> Good times. The meds kicked in, and I don't remember if I actually had any other notes for this chapter. I may edit notes later. (◐ o ◑) I hope you enjoy!


	8. The Red Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Facing the Convention of Twelve and the King, Integra, Alucard and Seras will discover the fate of the Hellsing Organization in the dawn of Integra's new unlife.

Striding down the familiar hall of the Convention’s Inner Sanctum, Integra felt the first tingles of nervousness. It wasn’t misgiving- no. She did not regret her choice and knew that regardless of her standing or results of this meeting, and she, Seras and Alucard would continue the work her great grandfather had started. It would merely be a question of how and where they would be operating.

Hands on the double doors, she paused. This was the first tangible evidence that things were forever different. That she was about to leave everything that was not Alucard or Seras behind. 

Alucard stepped in close to her shoulder, though he looked straight ahead at the door. He wouldn’t insult her with empty platitudes, but he also felt the gravity of the moment for her. Seras reached out a hand to Integra’s shoulder. “It’s alright, Sir,” she said softly, “We’re all in this together. No matter the outcome.”

With a deep breath in through her nose that she didn’t necessarily need, Integra nodded and pulled open the doors without a word. The Convention of Twelve was as they had ever been these days, seated in their assigned chairs, and all eyes turned to her as she entered the room. But tonight, the trepidatious looks were not for Alucard. They were for her.

Murmurs started the moment she walked in, and Integra strode forward with her head held high to take her seat. Sir Penwood sat directly across from her, but instead of looking nervous or whispering with his compatriots, he met her eyes bravely and nodded. 

“I am glad to see the assassination didn’t take, Sir Hellsing.”

At that, Integra smiled. “Thank you, Sir Penwood. I assure you, I am as well.”

“Sir Hellsing,” the voice of the king came from his seat at the dais near the table, “Come forward.” 

He’d caught her before she’d sat down, but she’d been in the process. Making a graceful reverse of movement, she stepped around her chair and came up to the dais, dropping her eyes and taking a knee as was expected. Alucard to her right also took a knee, and Seras to her left the same. When the hand and ring of the king came into her view, she took it wit a glove hand and kissed the ring as was tradition. 

“How do you feel, Sir Hellsing?” William’s voice was not that of the forty-eight year old man she knew him to be, but instead a younger soul. Unlike his father, he carried the youthful spirit of his grandmother Queen Elizabeth II, God rest her soul.

“I feel more myself than I have in years, Your Majesty,” she answered honestly. “And grateful to not be in the ground as our enemies would have sought.”

“As are we,” he said warmly. “This is Alucard?” 

“Yes, Your Majesty. My deepest regrets for not being able to introduce you before now.”

“We understand. Timing, is as ever, a problem where King and Country are concerned. We feel you have no guilt in this.”

“Thank you, Majesty.”

“Tell us, what are your plans going forward?”

“As they have ever been, Majesty. To serve the crown in the eradication of supernatural threats to the Kingdom, in service to God and King. We will not give up and despair, We are on a mission from God.”

The rustle of his clothes told her with her heightened hearing that he nodded, despite being unable to see it. “And this… situation with the Vatican. Are these the same threats you spoke to the Council of a few days ago involved in the incident in Scotland?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. The same that attacked me in Hellsing Manor under the guise of peace.”

“Do you plan to lend the Vatican aid?”

“If your Majesty sanctions as much.”

“Do you believe them to be a threat to England and her people?”

Thinking about it honestly, if she said yes he might give her clearance to do so and she could have her vengeance sanctioned. But… “I do not know, Majesty. They seem very focused on the crimes committed generations ago by specifically the Catholic Church. I do know that they care not for the innocent lives within, that they plan to slaughter indiscriminately anyone they feel is allied with the Vatican, and I do not know if they will stop at Rome. The Iscariot Division Section XIII does not have the numbers or power they once did, thanks to Millennium in 2000. I do not know as they will be able to contain the conflict, nor where it will spread.”

The King was quiet a moment, crossing his legs, and steepling his fingers in thought. “Sir Alucard.”

“Yes, Majesty?” Alucard’s deep voice echoed slightly, amused to be called on. 

“Rise, and come forward.”

Doing as he was bade, Integra felt his amusement radiating from him and she knew what garish, pink heart framed images were flashing in his mind. She smirked where it could not be seen, but silently prayed that Alucard said nothing to get them thrown in the Tower of London as it’s first prisoner in centuries.

“By God,” King William said in amusement, “You have not changed. You look precisely as Grandmother described. She was very fond of you, you know.”

“And I of her, Majesty. Your grandmother was a woman of great cunning, cleverness and conviction.”

“What guarantees do we have that with the change in your master, Hellsing Organization will continue to operate as it has?”

“And not devolve into a madhouse of Monsters?” Alucard chuckled, causing Seras to roll her eyes and deflate thinking this was it, they were doomed. Integra stared intensely at the floor, not daring to speak to his mind but impressing a sense of caution to her lover. “With the utmost respect owed your grandmother, as I have not yet had the pleasure of getting to know you, nor did I know your father, I answer with another question; What would Queen Elizabeth have believed? That Integra, before of after her change would truly change, or that she would serve devoutely until such time as England no longer needed her? Because I know the answer. Do you?”

William thought on it a moment. “We understand your point. You may resume your master’s side.” Waiting for Alucard to take knee next to Integra again, William then called for Integra to stand. When she did, he took in her appearance fully for the first time. Seeing the years washed away from her face, the pain gone from her posture and the fire returned to her eyes, he smiled. “You look like you feel better than the entire time I’ve known you.” She noticed he’d dropped the royal ‘we’. “I like you, Integra. My father didn’t understand you, but he trusted you. My grandmother went on at great length about your grandfather, you father, and the steel-eyed little girl who became England’s savior. She adored and trusted you… and for that, I will extend my trust in addition to our shared experience. Give the Crown no reason to believe that Hellsing Organization will operate any differently than it has, and the Crown will continue to support your work, and this Convention.”

Bending deeply at the waist in gratitude, Integra damn near wept in relief. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I will endeavor to prove your faith not ill-placed.”

“Rise, and take your place at the table.”

She did so, Alucard and Seras following to take their places at her side, Seras and Integra maintaining composure, as Alucard grinned like the Devil. 

“Welcome back, Sir Hellsing,” Penwood smirked.

“It is good to be back,” she smiled back.

“Onto the matter of The Vatican,” Sir Irons cleared his throat. “England cannot afford resources for a counter terrorist attack in another country, let alone on a religous sect not the state religion.”

“I do not think national resources will be necessary,” Integra said, pulling out a cigar and lighting it. “While not what they once were, my personal funds can be easily utilized for plane tickets.”

“For how many?” One of the other knights asked.

“Three.”

“You three?”

“Yes. While our troops are indeed well trained and prepared, they are trained to protect England, and are needed here.”

“If you go with your… lieutenants,” Sir Penwood said carefully, “Who will run Hellsing in your absence?”

“Captain Fitz Berger,” she answered confidently. “He has been with the organization since 2000.”

“The ex-mercenary?” Sir Walsh asked.

“The youngest surviving member of the Wild Geese, yes. He has been the head of security since the rebuild after The Battle of London, and I trust the Organization in his hands for the duration.” 

After that, while there were a few middling questions to answer, it was fairly decided. Even if there were knights with reservations on proceedings, the King had spoken. As the meeting adjourned, and they all stood for the King to be escorted out by his security team, Irons caught Integra’s eye and nodded, as did Penwood and Walsh. Well, it was good to know that despite history, the descendants of her old allies at least had her back. Now, it was time to plan and pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to make it William after "The Angel's Bite" chapter of Remembrances. Had to. 
> 
> Kind of a short chapter, but I wrote this one and the next one as one and then realized it was like 4000+ words and had to break them up. This was the best place to do that. So after editing, you'll get the next one soon. Promise. 
> 
> But also bed soon. Steroids keeping me awake... but almost sleepy enough to sleep. _(┐「ε:)_


	9. Quicken the Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparing to leave for Rome, Integra must learn how to handle aspects of her new unlife both mundanely and on a new plane of awareness... odd as that turns out to be meeting the new spirit of her gun.

“Guntree?” Integra said incredulously.

“No, GUMtree, sir! It’s like the UK’s version of American Craigslist!” Seras explained emphatically. Despite feigning disinterest where he sat aside Integra’s office desk with his feet upon it and kicked back in his chair, he was instead looking up this Gumtree and Craigslist instead of playing his game. Seemed like a place for murderers and rapists to lure foolish people into meeting in dark locations.

“I am _not_ listing an ad for a butler or assistant, who might need be trusted with State Secrets, on a personal ads site known for sexual solicitations, mattresses with bed bugs, and entire collections of Pokemon cards for sale!” Integra swore, aghast that Seras would even suggest such a thing.

“You know what Pokemon is?” Alucard asked in genuine amusement.

“Asks the man who just discovered YouTube and Candy Crush,” she snapped.

“Touche.”

“Well then I’d like to hear your better ideas for a fast solution, since I believe you said our plane leaves tomorrow and we have no way of getting coffins to the airport, or ensuring our safe travel. Master and I can stand the sun. You, currently sir, cannot.”

“Have you always been this snarky, or am I just irritated?” Integra asked, narrowing her eyes at Seras.

“I’ve always been this way.”

“You’re hungry,” Alucard added.

“Hangry,” Seras grinned.

“Seras,” Alucard and Integra said in unison, though Integra snapped and Alucard chuckled.

With a growl and concession to their words, Integra leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Well coffins aren’t necessary. We take dirt in plastic bags, in our checked luggage. We’re vampires of the modern era, and while I’m sure that I will eventually get one for propriety’s sake, if it is not necessary, then in a pinch we need not waste time on it.”

“It’s nice. The quiet, I mean,” Seras said softly. “I still mostly sleep in my bed, but sometimes… it’s nice.”

“I prefer it,” Alucard offered unhelpfully, grinning over some of the ridiculous things he was finding on these sites. “To anything but _your_ bed, Countess.”

“Master!” Seras giggled, “So forward!”

Integra needed to eat. Or she was going to knock their heads together and start screaming. Standing without a word and pushing her chair back in the process, it dinged into the stone wall behind her with force. She hadn’t meant to do that, but she’d never admit it as she stormed out and down the stairs to the fridge where there was some of the blood reserves.

Throwing a pouch in the microwave for a few seconds she heard Seras’s footfalls, and assume Alucard was coming too.

“You know going to Rome this soon is a poor idea,” his voice said directly behind her. Seemed he was already there.

“Did you find that on Gumtree?” she snarked without turning around.

He waited, saying nothing until the microwave beeped and she collected the warm blood, draining the pouch and letting it sooth her arching and irritable insides. Oh, she was still aggravated with them both, but it was not as… punchy a feeling.

“Better?”

“Slightly. You’re still being irritating.”

“That’s nothing new,” he grinned.

“Does the hunger ever stop?”

“No. It lessens. You learn how to exist in spite of it. Real, warm blood, blood of the living will ease it the most, but it never truly goes away. You did well in the Council meeting.”

Integra swallowed thickly. “Their heartbeats were so loud.”

“And yet, you appeared no differently than you ever have.” His tone was one of pride, as he dared to reach out and rest his hands at her waist.

She allowed it, finding comfort in the contact. Feeling her will buckle a little, Integra leaned forward and rest her forehead on his chest. “I’m exhausted.”

“Then we should rest.”

“There’s too much to do.”

“It can wait,” he said and there was a firmness to his statement that she actually didn’t care to test. “Berger knows what to do. All we have to do is throw some things in a lead lined bag to hide weapons, and get on a plane. We don’t even _really_ have to do that. We could always just let the Vatican burn.”

What a nice thought. Well it wasn’t nice, but it would certainly be understandable after their history both internationally and personally shared.

“I can’t do that.”

“You mean won’t.”

Her teeth ground together so hard her jaw popped. “Fine. I won’t do that. I will not sink to their level. To Maxwell’s level. That and…”

“Anderson saved you. Thirty years ago, in London. This isn’t just about vengeance.”

“...No. It’s not.”

“He’s dead.”

“And I never repaid the debt. Now, I can. Whether they want it, like it or not.”

“Hmph,” he chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Then we will go.”

Looking up to him in disbelief, Integra frowned. “Seriously? Just like that.”

Alucard nodded over his grin. “You have always been an angel fallen from the flight of seraphim under Michael’s flaming sword, the choir of Justice. Perhaps fallen into the arms of The Devil Himself, but ever the little fiery soul of righteousness and the Just.” Cupping her face with one hand, his eyes were glowing in the dim light. “It is who you are. And right now, you need to be who you truly are so that it is not lost amidst the sea of bloodlust and darkness on which you currently sail.”

That earned him a sigh. “I’m really uncertain of what to do with all this poetry.”

 _You have always inspired it_ , he assured her, kissing down the side of her neck lasciviously.

_Then why am I only now hearing it?_

_I kept it to myself._

_Selfish._

_Prudent. Perhaps the only prudent thing I ever managed in your lifetime._

_Prudent?_ She snorted aloud, eyes closed and fallen victim to the spell of his lips on her skin. _How was this deep dark secret of your poetry prudent?_

_Because you already wanted me. And I you. It was hard enough to wait this long…_

“Oh for God’s sake,” she mumbled against his shoulder. But he was right, if he’d been so beautifully poetic to her in her youth? Well… it certainly would have made things harder than they’d already been. “You’re infuriating.”

“I try.”

A strangled squeak opened Integra’s eyes and drew her attention around Alucard’s arm to find Seras, peeking around the door into the kitchen making a pucker lip fish face. “Soooooo cuuuuute,” she squeaked.

“Seras,” Integra growled her name in warning.

“Sorry Sir!” Seras stood up straight and turned to leave, “I was just going to pack!” With that, the draculina marched out.

***

After another blood snack, Alucard had carried integra upstairs and the rest of the evening had been filled with passion and blood sharing. Now it was near dawn, and she lay nude, Alucard sprawled atop her presumably asleep from his stillness of mind and body. Running over her many plans in her mind, Integra drifted off as the sun rose outside the blackout drapes of both her windows and closed canopy bed.

But she dreamt.

It was a strange place, a garden she knew from childhood and a low flower maze. There, in a clearing sat whitewashed, iron table and chairs set for tea, with her favorite gun, the Sig-Sauer she’d had for forty years, polished and shining in the sun. From height and perspective, Integra looked to her hands to confirm that in this dream, she was a child again. No less than twelve, when she’d awaken Alucard, but a child no less.

With a step into the clearing, she smelled her favorite floral tea and saw that sliced on the plates set for three, was ripe, green, succulent looking… kiwi.

Looking around, Integra frowned at the garden. This was… odd at best.

“Well, your gun needed a spirit,” a familiar voice said from behind her. With a flip of her hair, Integra whipped around fast as a shot, retrieving her firearm in the process and pointing it, only to immediately lower the weapon.

“Walter?!”

He appeared as she had always known him, in his twilight years, distinguished and greying of hair, monocle perfectly seated and in his butler’s attire. He bowed respectfully with a small smile. “At your service, madame.”

“I felt you die.”

“And dead I am. But also here. It seems that all weapons of Hellsing’s elite have a spirit of sorts. You should ask Alucard and Ms. Seras about theirs some time.”

Integra’s eye twitched in disbelief. “You’re… the spirit of my… gun now?”

“Well, I did give it to you long ago, didn’t I? I suppose it was where the part of me not ready to rest went.” He shrugged and spread his hands. “I do not understand the greater mysteries of this world, Madame, only the truths I experience.”

“..Oooookayyyy…” Looking from her gun, to Walter, to her gun, then Walter once more, Integra found she was no longer a girl, but the woman she’d left sleeping in the bed next to Alucard. Holstering her Sig-Sauer, she deflated a bit. “You selfish bastard.”

“Yes,” he nodded, composed as ever in the same means he’d taught her to be.

“Did you hear me? Every time I screamed at you after you passed, you damn traitor?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” she said and crossed her arms. “You deserved every vile word of it.”

“Indeed, madame.”

She looked at him a moment longer, and her heart twisted. “I’ve missed you, you know.”

He smiled. “And I you, madame. Would you like some tea? It’s your favorite.”

Deflating entirely, this was all too strange and yet… somehow she knew it was real in its way. “Yes. Please, join me. Who is the third place for?”

“I think it best he explain himself, madame,” Walter said, waiting for her to be seated and scooting in her chair for her before he sat in the chair to her right.

“Father?”

“Of a sort, lass,” another familiar voice said, but this one set chills down her spine. Appearing from the mists of the dream garden, Father Alexander Anderson appeared, instead of Arthur Hellsing.

Integra stared openly as the tall irishman sat in the chair that was honestly too small for him and picked up a slice of kiwi before sipping his tea. “This… is… no wonder Alucard seems mad,” she sad idly.

“Oh no, lass, your pet fruit bat is just as loony as ye think. Aye dinnea care how many years he self helped and silenced the voices inside o’him,” Anderson chuckled, “That little Romanian shit is nuttier than a Boxing Day Cheese ball.”

“Manners, Father,” Walter said flatly.

“Aye, aye, tis tea time afterall.”

Integra blinked three full times as Walter sipped his tea and Anderson ate kiwi slices before she could formulate a coherent thought. “What is happening right now?”

“Integra, you are a vampire,” Walter stated. “That means that the spirit of your gun is awakened in me, and that in so realizing, you have a different, heightened perception of the world.”

“Ye’ll get powers like your Fruit Bat boyfriend’s,” Anderson said around his chewing, “Like the little one did. But, like the little one can manifest her shadows differ’nt that ol’Alucard, yers will too.”

“In fact, as we have discovered,” Walter continued peacefully, “It seems that you have the ability… to reach out to the honored dead.”

Her eyes narrowed at Walter as she wasn’t sure he qualified, but neither was she certain the full nature of his demise. That and if he was the spirit of her gun, then perhaps that didn’t count. She did however cut her gaze to Anderson. “I called you here?”

“Well you called out for aid, over the three nights ye were changing, lass. I just happened ta be hover’n nearby.”

“That… is not exactly comforting, Anderson.”

“What? Ye never thought I’d be a Guardian angel sort?” he smiled and looked remarkably human and teddy-bear like. This must have been the face of the man that ran an orphanage. Not the man she’d ever met.

“Not near me or mine, to be sure.”

“Oh trust, lass- ye weren’t te only one awaiting ol’Fruit Bat’s comeback tour. Imagine my surprise when I'm wait'n ta see what boyo does and Makube shows up two days in a row to ye’r house! Then a lady, who I am fairly certain that I’ve not only seen before a very long time ago… but I think she might be my grandmother shoots yer arse?!” The father chuckled and shook his head. "More excite'n than old times, nearly."

Having decided to sip her tea at possibly the _worst_ time, Integra choked at that. “Anderson, that’s impossible. That woman is more than a thousand years old.”

Anderson and Walter shared a look. “But not a vampire,” Walter stated. It wasn’t a question.

“No, a Druid regenerator from the 9th century. 10th, maybe, I’m not entirely certain, I didn’t ask.”

“Aye lass, maybe even older - she did'nay give you a date, now did her? Vampires are dead. Can’t procreate. Regenerators are still alive…”

Realization dawned. Just because Moira was at least thousand years old, didn’t mean her progeny was. “How old were you, Anderson?”

“By my reckoning, and I dinnea remember the exact year lass, keep in mind- but I came to the orphanage in which I was raised when The Tudors were stake’n their claim in old Érenn.”

Integra damn near dropped her teacup, and even Walter looked impressed. “Anderson, The Tudors waged their conquest of Ireland in the 1560s.”

“Aye, it was a few years after that.”

“And you were…?  
“Oh six, seven years, maybe?”

With Integra’s composure cracking a moment as her jaw hung open, Walter cleared his throat. “That… would make you Nearly as old-”

“As Alucard himself,” Anderson finished with a smile. “Aye. Your boyo Fruit Batty isn’t the oldest thing in the hemisphere. Hell I dinnea think me gran is fer that matter, I see she’s trucking with a Faery now.”

“Why… are you here, Anderson?” Integra asked, cutting to the chase. This was getting too strange. She would need to go away, process, discuss possibly, and perhaps come back to this in a few days.

“Ta help lass. And ye’r gonta need it.” He sipped tea from the small teacup in the tiny chair looking oversized and like an adult at a child’s table despite Integra and Walter being perfectly proportional to the furniture.

“Am I?”

“You’re still a wet behind the ears lil'fruit bat. Just trust that when you need me, I’ll be there.”

“I’m doing this to repay my debt to you,” she added flatly. “Not to incur more debt.”

“The dead have no debts, lass,” he sighed. “Ye’r doing this cause you feel compelled ta do the right thing. Which I support, regardless of my opinions of your methods... look how I went out. Not much one ta judge after that I feel.” He sighed. “Well, time fer ye ta wake up now lass. Kick ol’Fruit Bat for me, won’t ye?

“Farewell for now, madame,” Walter’s voice said as the dream began to fade, and Integra woke once more with the taste of kiwi lingering in her mouth.

Alucard was raised over her on his elbows, looking concerned with narrowed eyes. “You were dreaming…”

“Does your gun have a spirit? The Casull?” she asked not entirely awake.

He blinked at her. “That kind of dream, eh?”

“And more. I think… our mission from God received divine backup.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you there was a plan for kiwis.


	10. Blood and Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Under Sanction of the King, Hellsing Organization's newly increased vampire strike force takes to Vatican City to aid the currently under attack Basilica de San Pietro.

Packing went swiftly, as did getting to the airport. It was still fairly light outside, the flight time was going to be three and a half hours, so Integra had scheduled early. This meant she wore a hooded jacket, long and black, with sunglasses, and Seras and Alucard walked on either side of her to help shield and shadows any possibly exposed skin.

They had no issues in the airport, weapons and blood packs hidden in the special suitcase Integra had had made for Seras ten years or so before, and only once did they get an odd question about it, but Alucard chuckled and coached Integra through compelling the airport security check with her eyes. It worked, and after that there were no more issues.

While waiting to board, Integra let Makube know via text they were about to be in the air, but received no response.

With window shades down, Alucard coerced Integra to sleep on the flight while he and Seras kept watch. He didn’t ask, so much as he did talk to her mind until she was distracted and the exhaustion of the last few days took over. He’d even been subtle about it… of course had he not, it never would have worked.

Arriving in Rome wasn’t difficult, but the trek from the airport to Vatican city was a different matter. Between the typical traffic and the police state of the attacks, there was naught but gridlock twenty minutes out. Integra’s patience thinning, Alucard made an executive decision. Stopping the cab, they paid him and retrieved their things as Alucard pulled them into a deserted side street in the growing darkness.

_Seras?_

_Yes, master?_

_Hold on to the luggage, and to me,_ he said telepathically as he pulled Integra against his chest firmly.

“Alucard, now is hardly the time-”

“You will want to hold on, Countess,” he purred, and when Integra realized that perhaps Seras was not giving a group hug merely because she was happy to be there, Alucard leaned down and kissed Integra with a grin.

He’d pulled her through shadows before, but not quite over such a distance. It was cold in the void between reality, Integra and Seras both holding to him tightly as Captain Bernadotte's voice could be heard whooping in delight over the speed at which they traveled.

When the rushing stopped they were just inside the barrier of the police blockade nearest the Basilica de San Pietro. Alucard smiled as Integra gave him a sharp look when their kiss ended, straightening her suit jacket and turning to handle the already shouting authorities.

“You know she might run out of patience with you for such things, master,” Seras grinned, taking a knee and starting to unpack and assemble her Harkonnen.

“Quite the opposite,” he chuckled looking out over the square littered with bodies, “I think she’s starting to get used to it.”

“Gasp, you mean soften?” Seras teased. “Stop the presses. Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing softening to the public displays of affection from her lifelong companion and recent lover? England would never recover.”

“Recent?” Alucard smirked widely and looked down at Seras, watching as her face blanked, thought a moment, and then blossomed into realization that they’d been lovers before his return.

_You both DO know I can still HEAR you?_ Integra all but shouted at them mentally without pausing her conversation with the police.. This did nothing but bring peals of laughter from both her companions.

“I smell three werewolves, at least, Master.”

“Three living, two dead.”

“And Heinkel,” Seras sneered.

“Yes, it seems the Iscariot’s remaining Regenerator is holding the fort out here best she can.”

With a frown, Seras used her vampiric sight and senses to try and glean more information about the outside as Alucard seemed to be focusing more inside. “Two on the roof, and the little shit who was in our home is just sitting on the steps. Heinkel is healing…”

“The Fae is inside, in the main sanctuary. With more… lesser Fae. They’re… feeding.”

“Ew gross, feeding on what?”

“Flesh. And fear.”

Seras stuck out her tongue in a gagging mimic. “I know we drink blood, but dear god I am starting to hate the Fae.”

“I feel you will likely have them more before this is said and done,” Integra interjected as she approached. “The police understand the situation, and we are cleared to go in.”

“Did you hypnotise them?” Alucard smirked, cutting his eyes down to her without turning his head.

Integra bounced once on her heels, hands in her pockets and looked to the Basilica, not Alucard. “Perhaps a little. My Italian is rustier than I realized.”

“Sir, you speak Italian?” Seras as, impressed.

“I speak seven languages, Seras,” she stated flatly. “Italian, French, Romanian, Latin, German, Dutch and of course The King’s English.”

“The werewolf hasn’t spotted us,” Alucard rumbled. “But the Fae felt us arrive.”

“Well then,” Integra bent and collected her reforged saber, holstering her Sig-Sauer and cracking her neck. “It would be rude to keep him waiting.”

***

It was no small feat to get into the Basilica. Seras was able to take out one werewolf with a perfectly placed shot from her Harkonnen, but it was unfortunately not the one she wanted, the one from the Manor house. Seras and Pip’s job was to get Alucard and Integra inside, then join when she could. The first part of that had been fairly simple, providing cover and taking pot shots to waylay the werewolves long enough for her master and her boss to enter the cathedral.

But now, Seras was at an impasse. The wolves, two remaining, were circling in the shadows. Selber was the one from the manor - she’d heard his buddy shout it at one point. Her real dilemma was she only had one shot left, and she wasn’t sure who she wanted to use it on. Travelling certainly put a stranglehold on what ammunition she had available.

“I neffer thought I’d see the day,” a voice said from behind her. Seras didn’t bother to turn and look. She’d been having Pip keep an eye on Heinkel Wolfe the whole time they battled the weres. “Seras Ffictoria in Ffatican City. God does answer prayers.”

“Not the time, Wolfe,” Seras grumbled, dodging an attack as the Not-Selber wolf thought he might have a chance to strike if she was distracted. Unfortunately, she was not, and the decision of last bullet recipient was made. With a leap out of the path of the werewolf’s claws, she aimed, fired and landed as the werewolf transformed into fire and a grizzly paste and mist in the spot she’d once stood.

Landing gracefully next to Heinkel, she shouldered her Harkonnen and looked to her rival with an expression of neutrality. “I’m hoping you can set aside our little personal drama for long enough to reclaim Vatican City?”

Heinkel, face scarred and monstrous looking as her souvenir of the Battle of London so long ago, sneered and spit, looking to the remaining werewolf who had landed across St. Peter’s Square from them and was stalking forward with a smile (and earbuds in like this was a game for him). “For now.”

“You’re still wounded,” Seras said, coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Iscariot Agent, presenting a united front against Selber. “You’re not healing right.”

“The She-Devil Wh-itch in wh-ite did something to me before she disappeared,” Wolfe growled. “I’m still healing… it just more slowly.”

“You underwent a rite, with Anderson, didn’t you?”

Heinkel’s eyes darted to Seras before back to their slowly approaching enemy. “Why?”

“Same rite that made him a Regenerator. Same rite that made Moira, the Lady in White, a Regenerator. It’s Druid magic… and she’s a Druid. If anyone could fuck with you on that, it’d be her.”

Heinkel was stunned to silence a moment, and Seras actually looked to the other woman. They hated each other - for reasons both good and selfish. But Seras… felt a kinship with the Iscariot agent on some level. They’d both survived London in 2000. They’d been there, they’d seen the horrors of Millennium.

“What do they want, Ffictoria?”

“To destroy the Vatican.”

That earned her a surprised look from under the bloodied wrappings on Heinkel’s face. “I meant what person or relic…”

“I know,” Seras nodded. “That’s why I told  you the truth.”

“I’m done vith this,” Selber said and bent at the waist, shifting into his large wolf form. “ _Come on, bitchesss,”_ he growled around inhuman teeth, _“Stahp eure hen pecking and spiele mit mir.”_

With a look and nod to one another as their grudge match as formally set aside, Seras and Heinkel split in unison to divide and conquer. As Seras flew up into the air and summoned her shadow material into a blade, she heard Pip clear his throat. _“You know Heinkel is going to try and kill you once the werewolf is dead, oui?_ ”

Seras just smiled. “I’d be disappointed if she didn’t.”

***

The sanctuary of the Basilica de san Pietro stank of rotten and molding fruit, and burned sugar… despite appearing to be empty. Well, empty of the living. There were corpses strewn about like a child’s discarded ragdolls.  _Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch'entrate_ , she thought to him, but then the real fun hit. Alucard watched as Integra nearly gagged at the smell of the fae, and they had to take a moment for him to coach her to focus and turn down her senses to tolerate it. He did all of this telepathically as they stayed hidden in a dark, shadowed corner for a moment… which was long enough to provoke the Fae to appear.

No longer in his modern suit, the Fae wore a Victorian fashioned waistcoat that appeared to be made of iridescent, charred leaves that trailed fine ash as he walked. The silver of his hair trailed at the tip of his ponytail into smoke, and his eyes burned like orange coals. “Where are you, Shadow-weaver, Soul-stealer?” The Hawthorne called, his footsteps leaving smouldering prints on the isle carpet, voice echoed by the faint buzzing of thousands of winged, stinging insects. “Shadow-weaver, Soul-Stealer, I am Fear… I know thee. Many fear you. You are the face of many nightmares. Back from the dead, back with his head… only to lose it for the princess. Tsk tsk…”

Integra stood perfectly still beside him un-breathing and silent as the shadow in which the observed the Fae- grey skin, hideously wide mouth curled at the corners, long pointed ears perked and listening as it stalked the sanctuary looking for Alucard. There were more fae there, obfuscated by Fae power from sight, but not from sound or smell. They were smaller, less powerful… child’s play, Alucard thought with a grin.

_In the name of God please kill that thing,_ Integra sneered mentally.

_I’m not sure as I can,_ Alucard admitted, as if this amused him. _The Fae are the truly immortal… if there is such a thing. But, I do promise to try my best, and at least send it back to wherever it came from._ Looking down to her, as she looked up to him, he raised an eyebrow. _The mole of the Iscariot is with Makube. Can you feel it?_

_I can,_ she nodded.

_Go. I will join you when I am done playing._

Integra leaned up, and Alucard acquiesced to her unspoken request with a silent, feather-light kiss. _Don’t take long. I will need your assistance._

_Only as long as is necessary, my Queen._ And with that, Integra stepped through the shadows and was gone. Ahh, he smiled, what a wonderfully fast learner his beloved Queen had always been. Now to the task at hand.

The Hawthorne, as the chittering voices of the unseen fae nibbling at the corpses scattered about kept whispering, walked closer and closer and eventually passed where Alucard hid. For a creature of ancient experience, Alucard was unimpressed.

“You are not very powerful for one of the Ancients,” the Vampire King chuckled, throwing his voice around the room. The fool spun and looked around, unable to pinpoint the origin.

“I am more old than you could fathom, phantom. But low in my court, a pawn no more yet not a king. And hold, shall I bring back your head to Arcadia, your grin my crown shall be!” The Fae grinned widely and did a little spin of excitement. “End your miserable demon life, and claim my prize… perhaps take your she Devils for my whores…”

Stepping out of the shadows, Alucard was already growing bored with this. “I had so hoped you would be entertaining,” he rumbled, and The Hawthorne spun on him where he appeared. “But I see the druid summoned you because you were too weak to resist. And now… I tire of your stink.”

As Alucard opened fire, the Fae hissed, face elongating hideously with distended jaw, and hundreds of tiny quadrupedal… copies of the Hawthorne revealed themselves and leapt for the No Life King. Alucard just smiled. He didn’t have enough iron bullets for them all, so he was going to have to take out multiples with one bullet.

Okay… maybe this was getting fun again...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try and get some artwork of Moira, The Hawthorne and Selber done at some point. 
> 
> Fun facts  
> \- I hadn't realized Heinkel was a chick. Thank you Hellsing Wiki.  
> \- Silber means Silver in German. I mixed it up with "Selber" that means "Itself". Welp. That's his name forever now.  
> \- Why the Languages chosen for Integra? Well as a child of noble heritage, she'd have had private tutors and high education, so multiple languages is not odd. French and Italian are useful living in Europe, Latin for more formalized study and necessary for learning some of the Alchemy involved with the Bindings of Alucard. Romanian, she'd have insisted on so that she could understand him at all times, and Alucard honestly probably helped her learn out of amusement. German over the last thirty years because fuck being taken by surprise ever again, and Dutch because it is the family language - Abraham VanHelsing was Dutch.  
> \- Alucard no longer gives any fucks about The Hawthorne, as he has realized Hawthorne's a bitch Fae. A Fae King of Arcadia might be different, and was No Life King's original concern. Now? Dog food.


	11. The Serpent of Arabia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beneath the Cathedral, dark truths are revealed.

In the Catacombs beneath the Basilica, hundreds of hearts beat rapidly in fear. Loud as drums to the ears of those who knew how to listen. 

Makube paced the largest chamber that held the most people, his phone dead and unaware help had arrived. His assistant sat near, as if waiting for an order that would do any good, while men, women and children - tourists, employees of the church and tours, nuns, priests, alter boys, a few members of the Iscariot that were known, and members of the other secret orders- sat side by side on old, dust covered pews amongst the dead. The black portals in the walls filled with remains of saints and the devout added to the gravity of the scene, and did nothing but keep everyone on edge.

Of course most knew of the crypts, Integra was fairly certain some of it at least was on the public tours. But these were not those. These were further below ground, showing the level to which the unexpected attacks had struck fear in those present and in charge. Enough that the Iscariot had burned a secret to protect the people of the Church.

But then… that had been the purpose, hadn’t it?

As Integra watched, other members of the Vatican’s Orders were coming back from patrol, and others to duty. Arm bands with Roman numerals, I through XIII could be seen, confirming a few of Integra’s suspicions about the number of Orders the Vatican employed.

That would wait for another day. Her quarry was moving.

Waiting for the nun wearing the XIII armband of the Iscariot to leave on patrol, Integra reached out from her shadow and grabbed Makube’s arm, pulling him back quickly and silencing him with a hand over his mouth. He startled, but saw her fast enough she she could release him and put a gloved finger to her lips. Pointing after the nun, she nodded. 

Glancing over his shoulder, Makube frowned but he quickly realized what he was being told. That was the mole. Giving her a confused and quizzical look as to how she’d found this out, Integra just smiled and disappeared once more into shadow.

***

The nun strode down the corridors with quiet, but rapid steps. She knew where she was going. She had what she needed, and she had to know. Centuries of planning had led to this day, and she was out of time. Hellsing had arrived.

Taking the stolen keys from her belt, Moira approached the final door at the end of the deepest hallway beneath the Vatican. The key slid in, but gave her a difficult turn. It had clearly not been opened in a very long time. As the door swung open into the pitch dark cell, she snapped her fingers and the candles high in the walls burst to life and light.

And there, chained to the wall and wrapped in an old, tattered robe, was Ander, her husband. He was far thinner than the last time she’d seen him, but he’d been fed. His hair was long, filthy, and his beard grizzled, but he looked up to her with a spark of hope. 

“What took ye so long?” he asked in a dry, unused voice, but there was no bile to it.

She smiled beneath hot tears, and took a step towards him saying, “The bloody catholics are prolific-”

Knocked to the side of the cell and into the stone wall hard enough it stole her breath, a blessed, silver saber ran through Moira’s abdomen and buried in the stone wall behind her, pinning her. Actually surprised, the Druidess found herself staring into red vampiric eyes under white blonde hair.

Integra smiled back.

The man in chains struggled to stand, his hoarse voice attempting to yell at her about ‘getting away from his wife’, but Integra ignored him for the moment. He could not reach them and if he was strong enough for any Druid magicks in those heavy and warded chains she would be surprised. Releasing her hold on the saber, Integra stood and drew her gun, pointing it at the man without looking at him. 

The Druidess gave Integra a wide eyed once over. “He is the Bird of Hermes, and you… The Serpent of Arabia is your name, the which is leader of all this game…”

“You know the Ripley Scroll.”

“I had to, to know you better.”

“State your peace, quickly.”

“This won’t kill me,” Moira laughed, coughing up some blood as she indicated the saber. 

“I am aware. I am here to talk.”

Moira took a breath and dropped Integra’s now blue eyed gaze. “I have nothing more ta say.”

“You shoot a person, in their own home, leaving them to die, and when they come back from the dead, you have nothing to say?” Integra sneered. “Hardly what I would expect from someone with so many years under their belt.”

“Not every’bloody person is as chatty as yer boyo,” Moira chuckled, coughing blood again.

Integra paused. “That’s fair.” Keeping her gun trained on the man who’d given up his failed voice, she narrowed her eyes at Moira Reid. “If you’ve nothing to say, then just listen. I understand why you’ve done what you have. This imprisonment is wrong. However... “

“How else was I s’pposedta get here?!” she shouted, trying not to move or cut herself in half. Integra watched as the regenerator realized the position she’d been put in; stand and listen, or cut herself damn near in half to escape, giving Integra plenty of time to do… well anything. The Druidess sagged a touch as Integra’s smile grew wider. 

“Do you think that in his weakened state, your husband will survive a blessed bullet to the head?”

“She’s bluffing, lass,” Ander wheezed. “She’ll drink us before she shoots us.”

“I killed her, love,” Moira said apologetically. “She’ll kill you and leave me here to rot before she touches us.”

“Your wife is very intuitive,” Integra said calmly. “And in this case, very right.”

“ _Hells_ , woman,” Ander groaned and sat down. “She’s a bloody Vampire Alchemist. What in the name of the Old Gods were ye thinking?”

“That she and her King were the only ones who could stop me.”

“She was thinking of you,” Integra added… and lowered her gun. “We have a score to settle, Reid. But there are larger problems at hand.” Hearing the sounds of many boots mobilizing, while Makube did not necessarily know where Integra and Moira the Iscariot mole had gone, it would not take him long to find them. 

“I will be brief. I think you can glean from my current state a number of things,” Integra said coldly, “The important one being that if it were Alucard there in chains, I may very well have been the one pinned to the wall, as you are now. But your crimes cannot stand.”

“What’re ye proposing?” Moira asked, voice trembling. 

“You have to send the Fae back. To Arcadia. I free you. Your husband, we go upstairs and aid Alucard in undoing what you have wrought by bringing The Hawthorne here. Then, before the Vatican, Makube, everyone, I behead you as Alucard aids your husband in escape. I collect your remains, take them back to England… and give them to your husband. Perhaps you survive. Perhaps you do not. But after that, I never see or hear from either of you ever again.”

Moira frowned. “That… is bloody merciful.”

“Well I’ve been having some odd conversations of late with… a higher power. How many innocent lives have you taken since this began, Reid? Or have you just let The Hawthorne and Selber do your dirty work while you played the pias nun?”

Moira swallowed roughly. “I have taken no life that was not deserved. I could not, not after your words. But their blood is still on my hands. I called the Fae.”

“That is for you and your Gods to sort out. But I am not your Judge or Jury. However in order for you to not be hunted by the Iscariot until the sun burns out of the sky, I will need to be your Executioner. Agree now, or the Iscariot will be upon you. Not us. I can merely step away.”

For a moment, Moira trembled. But Integra watched as she made the only choice she had to survive. “So be it, Alchemist.”

Integra holstered her gun.  _ Now, Alucard. _

In a blast of cold air and darkness that slammed the iron door shut to the cell, Alucard appeared, and snatched Ander from his bonds. Integra lunged forward and removed her saber from the wall and Moira, the regenerator healing almost immediately as she took Integra’s hand, Integra turning with the Druidess to grab on to Alucard, and in a cold wind of the void, they were gone. 

When Makube arrived in the cell, having heard the door slam, the candles were extinguished, shackles empty and the dust dancing about the air, but otherwise no evidence of what had transpired. 

“Chief Makube!” one of the young Iscariots called, skidding to a stop behind him. “What was in this cell?”

“I do not know,” Makube said honestly, frowning into the darkness, “But I feel that perhaps it was what brought this upon our heads.”

“Shall I find out sir? See what we’re looking for?”

Makube shook his head. “No. We will not find it.”

“But sir-”

“Spread out, agent. The mole may still be down here. Go!”

As the young agent ran off, something in Makube’s mind told him they would find nothing down here. He could only hope that Hellsing understood what they were doing, and had not just killed them all.

***

The Sanctuary of the Basilica thrummed with the buzzing of thousands of wings, reeking of death and caramel. Being in his newest state of omnipresence, it was as though Alucard had never left, but now had his Queen, and two… well more like one and a half, ancient Druids as backup.  The Hawthorne, upsettingly, had tripled in size. Having devoured hundreds of his little copies, the nightmare Fae now stood hunched beneath the vaulted, arch ceilings of gold over them and cackling in a monsterous tone. “Four from one? The fun has now truly begun!” it cackled.

Alucard’s Iron bullets were striking and doing damage, as were Integra’s as they joined in symphony, but not enough. “Keep it busy,” Moira called as she darted off to the side and grabbed an ornamental golden dagger, “I need a few minutes.”

_ The security system and cameras are out, Count, _ Integra thought to him as she maintained suppression fire on the Hawthorne and his little pests.  _ Verified in what I overheard downstairs. _

_ How lovely, _ Alucard responded, and his laughter began to echo in the cavernous room. Suddenly, the Casull was gone, and Alucard was growing. The shadows coalesced around him, and his red hat and coat were replaced by the black leather and straps, the form Integra found him in as the Nosferatu, No Life King so long ago. 

Shadow power rushing towards the Fae, The Hawthorne had the presence of mind to look upset for a moment, before dodging. The relics behind him were obliterated instead, and as Alucard gave chase, he smirked. “Oops.”

But the fae was fast, stepping in and out of what Alucard was learning from watching and sensing was called “The In Between”... a place that since he now knew it, he could also exist within. So, he did, and he followed… much to the upset of the Fae. 

“You cannot escape, little bug,” the No Life King roared in joviality. 

“Nor can I die!” Hawthorne shrieked. “Shall we dance here forever, King of Death? King of Shades? Now that you dance within my glades?”

“I need him on this side of the veil!” Moira shouted over the odd and unnatural wind kicked up by Alucard and The Hawthorne bouncing back and forth between layers of reality. She and Ander had cut their hands and were clearly performing some sort of right. Having drawn a circle in the blood on the floor, Integra saw through her long hair whipping about, and understood that the Fae would have to be in that circle. 

Turning back to look up, she waited, watched, calculated and when she heard the barest whisper on the wind say, “Now, lass,” Integra leapt into the air with her supernatural strength, saber leading. She came into contact with The Hawthorne right as he passed through reality, and she skewered him, a strange greenish light flashing as she did so. 

Using the momentum of her leap, she drove The Hawthorne down to the ground and directly into the center of the Druids’ circle, somersaulting out in the blink of an eye at the same moment Ander and Moira thrust two borrowed relic daggers down into the creature. 

There was a tense moment where the wind stopped, The Hawthorn lay, eyes bulging but unmoving, the two Druids, Integra and Alucard where he towered over his queen and did not move… until in an explosion of rot, ash and shrieking agony, The Hawthorne was no more.

Alucard had moved one hand to shield Integra from the offal, shaking it off himself as he resumed his normal size, and red coat, ascot and black suit, minus the hat for the moment. Hellsing’s elite strode unblemished towards the druids, that were unfortunately covered in the black viscous of the Fae’s fate.

“Well. He won’t be back any time soon,” Moira said with mock chipperness.

“He’s not dead?” Integra asked flatly.

“Oh nay, lass. The Fae can only be killed in Arcadia, their Westerly Lands. Killed here just means they return there,” Ander was the one who answered, voice a touch better for the use.

“Makube comes,” Alucard stated, as if repressing a bored yawn.

Moira blinked up at him. “All that, an’ye be already bored again?”

Alucard smiled. “I’d love nothing more than to kill you. Shall I entertain myself?”

“That is enough,” Integra warned. “We have an accord. Alucard, tell Seras it is time to go, and take Ander somewhere else for a moment.”

“I look forward to the main event,” he purred, and with a lightning fast flick of his hand, he and Ander were gone.

On her knees, in the viscera from the Hawthorne, Moira watched Integra reclaim her sword as Chief Makube and the remaining Iscariot came rushing into the Basilica’s sanctuary. Most of them look truly horrified at the state of the place, but Makube’s keen gaze was on Integra and Moira.

“I saw him,” the Driudess said up to the Director of the Hellsing Organization. “Anderson, my grandson, when you struck The Hawthorne.”

Integra raised one eyebrow.

“Just a flash of light, but his spirit helped you strike. He’s on your side now, isn’t he?”

“For now.”

“Sir Hellsing,” Makube called starting to jog across the sanctuary as if he sensed what was coming, but Integra was already raising her sword. “We would like to-”

“Brace yourself,” Integra whispered.

“-Question the traitor-”

“If I die, it’s meant te be.”

With one strike, clean and efficient, Moira’s head rolled onto the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was a ride.  
> So much clean up.  
> Makube's probably not gonna be real happy for a bit...  
> Section XIII no happier with Hellsing than when they started, but now they kind of owe them. Kind of.  
> The Heinkel rage will be strong after this one. 凸ಠ益ಠ)凸 (◄-Heinkel)
> 
> I hope there were a few things that surprised you. I have been trying to keep cards close to the chest while maintaining continuity this whole time. But believe it or not, I've had most of this scene planned since near the beginning. This, last chapter and this one were my 12% of a plan. That and Moira shooting Integra. 
> 
> But, we're not quite done yet. ☆⌒(*＾-°)v


	12. ...And Knitteth Him Ere He Have Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the dust settles, the future of Hellsing Organization is forever altered. Where the nights will lead is yet to be seen.

In the weeks following the attack on the Vatican, there was quite a bit of paperwork to do. Damage reports, though less than had something happened in the past when Alucard was involved. Official statements, reports and letters filed through numerous channels, all the while the news coverage on the television and internet showing the footage of Selber being destroyed outside the cathedral from all angles. Heinkel and Seras became odd celebrities for a while, having fought publicly in defense of St. Peter’s Basilica. 

Seras didn’t leave the manor for the duration, the one time she had she’d been mobbed by reporters and bloggers with camera phones. Since they’d been trying to sneak on the property ever since that encounter, Integra had finally agreed to start interviewing for Poppy’s replacement. That had seemed to grate on her nerves even more than all the paperwork over the Vatican incident. 

Having taken Ander and Moira’s words and observations to heart, Integra had also been spending a not-insignificant amount of time pouring over her family’s old alchemical journals and reacquainting herself with what she knew and furthering her education on such things. She even managed to find a spell that gave Anderson and Walter a means of manifesting… when she allowed it. It amused Alucard greatly that she allowed Anderson to be manifest longer than the old Butler, and even further than he was the spirit of her gun. Ironically it was Father Anderson-ghost (as Alucard insisted on calling him of late), who made the suggestion that ended up solving the head of staff issue, and brought in a new maid and groundskeeper.

Eventually the dust settled and the news and internet moved on, Hellsing and Section XIII fading into recent memory and despite the tense silence from Makube and the Vatican after a displeased ‘official’ thank you, most everything was back to what passed for normal in Alucard’s eyes. 

He watched from not-in-the-room as Integra instructed the younger knights of the Convention of Twelve in archery. She had become very good at divorcing herself from the hunger, which came as no surprise to the Vampire King. What shouldn’t have been a surprise either, but had been, was her flat refusal to drink living blood. After Seras, he should have expected as much. Integra was far, far more stubborn than Seras could ever be and it had taken great lengths to get Seras to do as much, and she’d not since. 

Though it pulled an internal sigh from him, Alucard knew one day there would be reason and call for Integra to become a full vampire in her full power. Until then, she had her alchemy and her illusion of humanity.

But then… wasn’t that what he adored about her? 

Even in her most bloodthirsty moments in life, she’d acted with honor and humanity where she could. Though he bubbled with excitement to see what she would become, what she could do, for now it was a masochistically beautiful thing to watch. 

When the knights had gone and Integra was in her office wrapping up business for the evening, Alucard actually wandered the halls waiting, grinning up smugly at the paintings of the Hellsing family. He stopped in front of Abraham VanHelsing and his grin spread widely. “You know old man,” he said aloud but softly, “Seems a number of souls have been hanging around of late. I hope you’re around somewhere so that you can hear me. I told you once that you could not defeat me… but you did. In a way. I hated you. A part of me still does. You took everything from me, as was the pattern of my existence. I hated you more for perpetuating that cycle. 

“And yet here we are. I am more than I have ever been… thanks to my enemies and  _ her _ . Your granddaughter.” His smile was not entirely natural anymore. “I hope it chafes you. Grates your very soul that she allowed me to claim her. To save her. To reweave her in darkness to be the beautiful fallen angel she is and will ever be. I want it to burn you. But… I also want to thank you. If not for your victory, your bindings, your triumph over the monster I was, I would not be the monster I am. I would not have her. And she, is everything.”

“You make a habit o’ talk’ ta paintings?” a voice that was becoming familiar asked. Alucard cut his glowing eyes in the direction from which it had come.

The new head of Manor staff stood with her arms crossed and smirking in the crisp traditional maid’s attire that had been agreed upon to maintain appearances. Hair dyed black, the No Life King was not entirely convinced it was a good idea, but he’d agreed that despite Seras’s argument that people would notice, it was unlikely anyone would after such a public execution. And if Makube and Section XIII came to visit and thought they were seeing ghosts, all the better.

“Do you make a habit of eavesdropping on another man’s conversation with the dead?” Alucard smirked at Moira Reid.

“Actually, yes,” she laughed. “But then I also have those conversations, so I suppose I shouldn’t judge.” Waving a dismissive hand, she turned to leave. Now officially on the Organization’s payroll, as was her husband the new groundskeeper, Alucard’s laughter followed her. They were truly a house of family and monsters now. 

_ Alucard _ , Integra’s unamused voice said to his mind,  _ I’m done. You said you had something you wanted to discuss. If it is business, you have ten minutes before I pick up my wine and book for the evening. _

With a thought, he turned and was in her chambers where he knew her to be, dismissing his hat and coat, but making a point of taking off his gloves as she looked up from where she was already sitting in her chair by the fireplace. “You summoned me?” he purred as he dropped his gloves and took a knee in front of her. Her whole life he’d done so, but in subservience. Now, it was to lay his cheek on her knee and look up to observe how the moon illuminated her hair from the window behind. 

She raised an eyebrow at him. Despite her cool expression, he felt her fingers begin petting his hair. “I did… but you were the one with something to talk about.”

He just smiled. “Dance with me?”

That earned him a soft sigh. “Is it necessary? I  _ just _ sat down…”

“Please?”

As if his hair had turned pink, Integra’s eyebrows flew up at the uncharacteristic request. “That word did not burn your tongue to utter? What strange nights in which we live.” She was standing with the last however, her own jacket and gloves discarded as she allowed herself to be pulled into a waltz with no music.  Expression softening as she recalled the last time they’d waltzed together, she inclined her head. “Am I ever going to know what you wanted?”

“Would you agree that as the King and Queen of the night, that a religious ceremony would be an utter farce? And, seeing as that we are both, but specifically I am legally dead, anything involving bindings of the law would also be a pointless waste of time?”

Her keen blue eyes narrowed as the gears spun rapidly, trying to see where he was going with this line of conversation. He listened to her thoughts to see her nail it immediately, then discard the idea as foolish. After another moment of accepting her first idea was probably right but not why, she answered. “I would agree with those assessments, yes.”

He smiled, drawing her out until he felt the sting of actual annoyance begin to rise within her. “Then what gesture would you require from me, symbolically, as a token representation of our union?”

One eyebrow arching as he spun her gracefully, Integra sighed. “I require nothing of the sort,” she stated firmly. “I feel that my being here is token enough. After all, my grandfather called your fledglings your Brides, once upon a time. I doubt you and I are the only ones who have such associations.”

“Perhaps,” he chuckled and pulled her against his chest. “But none before have been my No Life Queen.” Pausing for dramatic effect and leaning down to brush his nose to hers with a self-assured grin, “None before, and no others after. Only you, Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing.”

She held her expression level and cool, but her cheeks pinked and he felt her heart skip in her chest. “Fine,” she sighed. “I will think on it and get back to you. Acceptable?”

He just grinned wider in the moonlight and nodded. “I can think of at least one place to start,” he rumbled and gathered her hands, moving them to the knot of his ascot. At  _ that _ , she finally grinned back to him. Undoing the knot, she pulled it off and began undoing the buttons of his shirt slowly before leaning up for a kiss. 

_ If this is where we start, I think I might take my time coming up with an answer _ , her voice in his mind pleased and amused.

_ That _ , he purred back as he broke the skin of her bottom lip to enhanced their kiss with blood, tasting her deeply with a moan of pleasure,  _ is also acceptable, my Queen. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are at the end. Sorry it took me so long to get this one last chapter up.
> 
> If you're reading this, thank you for sticking with until the end! I hope you've enjoyed reading as much as I have writing, and the good news is I've tried to leave it open for if inspiration strikes me again in the future and can add to the overall series. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! You are awesome and I appreciate you!!!


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